


Falling in Love With Your Unlikely Saviour

by SolivagantSleepyhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Kankri gets attacked in an alley, M/M, blah blah they fall in love, cronus saves him, they are both like "wowza hotty with a body", wow i suck at tags as bad as i do summaries jfc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantSleepyhead/pseuds/SolivagantSleepyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with an impetuous decision; something that would usually go without altercation.<br/>But the universe just loves fucking up your night.<br/>You always thought stories of unlikely saviours--the valiant heroes who would drop in at the last moment to save someone--were a load of bullshit that the film industry loved to market to romantics like your younger brother.<br/>Well, that's just one more thing you were wrong about, that night.<br/>...<br/>It started as you left a sleazy motel at night. You left home recently and, let's just say your music career isn't exactly what one might call "booming".<br/>As you walked to the 24-hour Convenience store for a pack of smokes, you heard yelling and, being entirely bored with this town, you decided to check in and make sure everything was alright.<br/>Instead, you end up making one of the best decisions of your life.<br/>...<br/>Cronus Ampora, meet your new roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Guardian Angel

As you glance at your watch, you note with a brief sense of horror that it is 2:38 in the morning. Oh, God. Karkat was going to have your head.

Sans a few stragglers stumbling out of bars or returning home from the late night shifts at work, you are the only one running through the dimly lit streets of the city at 2 am on a Saturday morning. You had meant to go home at least 5 hours before, but had been held up after you fell asleep at your best friend’s house. Despite your urging her to wake you up by 11 at the most, she had insisted that, in your recent bout of insomnia, you needed whatever sleep you could manage to salvage—even if that meant breaking your promise of visiting your younger brother before you returned to your apartment.

Your rapid footfalls echoed as you turned the corner and entered into the alley a few blocks from your apartment. You ignore, for a moment, your common sense, in favor of getting home and away from the streets as early as possible. It was nearly pitch black, with only a few back lights from buildings’ side doors to light the path, strewn with garbage, where none else were foolish enough to tread.

No one, except for you, that is.

Turning the second corner, you can practically see the pale light of the next street at the edge of the building. With enough luck, you’ll be back to your apartment complex in three minu-

There’s a hand on your shoulder.

Without any warning, you are pulled backwards and roughly shoved against a wall by a pair of large hands, two heavy arms filling both sides of your peripheral vision as your unknown assailant entraps you against the hard bricks of a shady motel.

Fuck.

“Oh, Darling, didn’t your Daddy ever teach you that pretty little things like you ain’t supposed to be runnin’ around alone at night?” The man keeping you trapped coos condescendingly. He smells of sweat and alcohol, you nearly gag on the thick, overpowering scent. _Goddamit, Kankri. It might be the lack of sleep, but your impetuous actions might just be the death of you one day…_

_…Maybe today._

You shudder a bit as the possible scenarios of this situation run through your head; there are no auspicious outcomes from what you can imagine. Your phone is in your bag—the one that was knocked from your shoulder as you were pulled backwards; and it’s not like you even have any money to bribe this guy with, either. You only have one chance of making it out of this unscathed, and it’s something you rarely resort to.

Begging.

“Sir; I assure you that I do not have anything of value in my possession. If you let me go, I promise that I will continue on my way and never utter a word of this to a soul!” you babble, not entirely sure of where to focus your eyes upon the before you, which is obscured with the thick darkness suffocating the streets. “I implore you to release me—just please, _please_ allow me to leave.” You beg, any semblance of composure lost in your tremulous voice.

The rattling of laughter in his chest reverberates, and your mind rushes you to memories of the aged shutters on your old home near the ocean; to pocket change in a dryer as you sat alone in a Laundromat last Sunday; to a marble in your metal water bottle in grade 7 on the day that you almost choked to death; _anything, absolutely anything but here and now,  when the man before you is pressing your body in place with his own against the cold bricks of a building that you couldn’t even name if naming it would grant your release._

“I ain’t nearly done with ya, sweetheart.” He slurs, his breath hot on your face as he leans in closer, the stench of debauchery soiling your entire person as he pushes closer, closer, and closer in to you.

_[Fight or flight]_

_Phrase: 1. the instinctive physiological response to a threatening situation, which readies one either to resist forcibly or to run away._

In a split second decision, you maneuver your smaller body downwards and duck under his right arm.

Three steps. In three steps, you could step away, retrieve your bag, and sprint from the alley and into the open streets.

One.

Two.

Three---

Unfortunately, speed had never been your strong suit.

You are pulled down by your ankle, falling to the ground on your back and scraping your hands on the pavement as you fumble for purchase. Again, those arms hold you to the ground, one holding you down, the other pressing… _something_ to your throat. What _is_ that?

You crane your head upwards as far as it will go, when a metallic object catches your eye as it glints in the blue light of the moon.

A knife. There is a knife being held to your throat as you lay uselessly on the ground, a much larger body pressing yours down.

You’re going to die here.

“You _bitch!_ ” your assailant growls, his face mere centimeters from your own. “Whadda fuck do ya think you’re doin’?!”

You whimper quietly, the cold metal biting into your supple flesh as he moves on top of you.

“I’m sorry! I am so very sorry!” You sob, tears of distress beginning to flow from your eyes. “I-I’ll do what you want! Just _please_ don’t hurt me!”

Suddenly, the weight on top of you vanishes. You curl in on yourself, lying unceremoniously on the pavement, the tears still running down your face as you weep into your hands. Beyond the ringing in your ears, you think you can hear an altercation. You don’t care. There are sobs wracking your body and a thin film of what you presume to be blood dripping from your throat from where the knife had pierced the flesh.

A short amount of time passes before you feel someone grab onto your shoulder. You whimper in fear and curl into yourself more; he might leave if you didn’t respond to him. Instead, someone pulls you up into a sitting position and brushes the hair from your eyes. He’s speaking to you, but you can’t make out what he’s saying; his words are a dull roar in the crashing tide of your ears. You crack open your eyes slowly to chance a look at him, but, _oh._

This is _not_ the man from before. Who is this person?

As he places a hand under your knees and the other on your back, you allow him to lift you. He places you onto your unsteady feet, gripping your shoulders lightly as he bends down and continues speaking to you, his brow furrowed in concern.

You think he asked you a question, because he looks increasingly more worried when you say nothing. Your panic is ebbing away, and his words sound less garbled as your heart rate decreases. Sensing your change, he asks you, again:

“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head softly. The figure sighs in relief.

“So you can hear me. You had me worried there, chief.” He smiles.

When you do attempt to speak, your own voice sounds alien in your ears: it’s hoarse and strained and fearful, nothing like the confident, melodious tone of your usual demeanor.

“Where is he?” you ask quietly, still worried that the mystery assailant may reappear.

The figure scowls a bit. “That dirtbag? Don’t worry, I sent his ass runnin’.” He laughs, and the sound is cool and refreshing, like water hitting the jagged rocks of the sea; it’s so different from the other man’s laughter that you almost want to cry in relief.

The figure retrieves your bag and slings it over his shoulder. “C’mon, chief, I’ll walk you home in case any other scum comes around to bother you.”

As you glance up at him, he winces slightly as he takes in your bloodied neck and sweater. “What’s your name, kid?”

“…Kankri. My name is Kankri Vantas.” You say, more to remind yourself than to inform him.

“Kankri, eh? Nice to meet you, Kan.” He smiles as he holds his hand out to you. “The name’s Cronus Ampora.”

_Cronus Ampora._

_Your guardian angel is a man in a leather jacket named Cronus Ampora._


	2. "Do you think you would like to stay here?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much like the "Unlikely Saviours", Kankri had decided that fate, too, was fake; that events were not predestined to occur, and could change spontaneously based solely on even the smallest drop of a pin.  
> But there are also things that are definitely not a coincidence.  
> Meeting Cronus Ampora was one of those things.

“Ah, this is my building.” You stated, motioning to the aging structure beside you. You felt a bit guilty making him walk you here, even though it was only a few minutes away. Cronus made a small noise of acknowledgement, glancing at the building briefly before moving his eyes down to you.

“I guess this is it, then.” He smiled, slinging your bag off of his shoulder and transferring it to yours. “Even though it definitely wasn’t under the best circumstances, it was nice to meet you.”

Bathed in the lights of your building, you notice a small cut on the side of his face, the blood forming a slight rivulet down his prominent cheek bone. So he was cut by the knife, too? He must have not noticed amidst all the chaos of assuring your safety. Great; not only were you guilty of stealing away his time, (at 2 a.m., nonetheless!) but you were also guilty of endangering his well-being. Tonight was really not turning out as you had planned.

“Ah, you appear to be bleeding.” You mentioned, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater so you wouldn’t have to see the surprise on his face.

“Don’t worry about that, kid. I’ve had worse.” He replied, brushing the hair on the right side of his forehead away to reveal two jagged scars.

You couldn’t prevent a sigh from escaping your lips. This guy was one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Not only did he save you, escort you home, and suffer an injury because of you, but now he was trying to relieve you of your guilt when _you_ should be the one making _him_ feel better. Kankri Vantas, you are one of the luckiest people alive.

“I honestly don’t know how to repay you for all you have done for me…” You chuckle awkwardly, still a bit too frazzled from the recent events to have any semblance of poise. “The least I could do is clean your wound for you.”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot a bit, a bemused expression in his eyes. “Shouldn’t you ask your parents before inviting people inside, kid? I’m sure they’re worried sick about ‘ya, anyways.”

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his insinuation. “My…parents?” You ask, cautiously. “How old, pray tell, do you take me to be?”

Cronus glances at you askance before answering. “Well…definitely not old enough to be living by yourself.” He chuckles.

“I’ll have you know that I am 22 years old!” You remark incredulously.

“No shit?” He gapes, giving you a once over. “Damn, you’re only 2 years younger than me! I had you pegged at around 16—17, at the most, what with you bein’ so tiny and all!”

“Tiny? Just because some are not blessed with your 6 foot stature does not automatically make them minors!” You sputter indignantly. Your height had always been a sore spot for you; even Karkat was steadily growing taller than you’d ever be.

“Calm down, chief, it was an honest mistake; I promise.” Cronus assures you, still recovering for his laughter at your own expense. You huff a bit in annoyance.

“Well, if you are done entertaining the thought that I am a _child,_ my offer to clean up your wound is still valid,” You remark as you climb the few steps to the front entrance, Cronus following in suit.

Other than Karkat and Porrim, you rarely bring others into your apartment—especially not people you met only a dozen or so minutes before. It’s not as though your apartment is dirty, or cluttered—quite the opposite, actually; you keep your things meticulously organized, and just the presence of someone new feels uncomfortable—unnatural, even.

You lead Cronus to the bathroom, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub so you can properly clean his injury. “Your wound is not deep, but this will hurt a bit.” You warn as you press a disinfectant-soaked cotton ball against his head. Unlike you, he doesn’t flinch at all, focusing on watching your contorting face as you move in to heal him. After you cover it with a bandage, you move to the mirror and pull down your turtleneck, assessing the damage. The sight of blood had always made you uncomfortable, and your brother had full-blown hemophobia; which added unnecessary stress to your childhoods, as every rough game brought the fear that one of you would get hurt, somehow. Even now, you feel your stomach turn slightly at the amount of carmine red that has soaked through your sweater and is slowly drying on your clavicle. Closing your eyes, you attempt to clean off the area as best as you can, and fail miserably. Cronus, apparently, notices this, and rises from his place to come and assist you.

“You alright there, chief? Grossed out by blood, huh?” He asks, taking in your sickened expression.

“Yes, I suppose so. It is far easier to do on others than it is yourself.” You mumble, a bit self-conscious of your incapability at handling such a trivial matter without requiring the help of others.

“Here, let me help.” He replied, taking the disinfectant and beginning to clean the area.

His hands were surprisingly gentle as they ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, and you find yourself almost leaning into the comforting sensation. Strangely enough, from the corner of your eye, you can barely make out a brief smile on the corner of his lips as he continued in his ministrations.

“There. That should do it.” Cronus informed, tossing the bloodied cotton into the waste basket near the shower. “Well, Kan; thanks for patching me up, but I think it’s about time that I got outta your hair.” Cronus observed, moving past you and back into the main living area.

“Cronus, wait!” you called, following him to the door.

“Yeah, Kan?”

“Well—if it isn’t too presumptuous of me, do you think I could, possibly, get your contact information? You’ve been so kind to me, and I believe that we could establish a friendship—if you want to, that is.” You ramble; worried that he may just see you as the person he helped in an alleyway and walked back home.

Cronus smiled in response, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Yeah, that sounds pretty great, actually! I just got into this town from the next one over. I don’t really have a place, yet, so nothing is definite, though.”

It was difficult for you to keep contact through technological devices, alone. You much preferred to speak face-to-face instead of into a cold, metallic receiver to an acquaintance however many miles away. Maybe you could help him find a place in town. Or…maybe—

“Do you think you would like to stay here?” You blurt out, your train of thought escaping you. “I do have an extra room, and we could split the rent.”

Cronus pauses for a moment and you turn your eyes away, feeling embarrassed for being so impulsive. _Oh no, what if you’ve triggered him or freaked him out? He might not even want to be around you any longer! Oh, Kankri, you blabbermouth!_

When you open your eyes again, Cronus is grinning. “That sounds great, Kan! But, are you sure you’re really okay with this? After all, you did just meet me tonight.” He remarked, leaning onto the doorframe.

“Although I normally would not do anything of this sort, I believe that you have proved yourself to be a more than trustworthy individual, and I could not think of anyone else I would prefer to live with.” You insist, genuinely hoping that he would accept your proposal.

“Alright, then! I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Perfect, I will see you then.”

As he leaves, you momentarily wonder if this is all a good idea, but quickly dismiss the thought. You could see yourself becoming good friends with Cronus Ampora.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shhh the chapters will get longer, i promise


	3. Honesty is the best policy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have often been told "Honesty is the Best Policy."  
> But, seriously; everyone lies.  
> Although, we often look over the fact that being honest does not mean not telling lies.  
> Being honest doesn't just mean 'telling the truth', it's *knowing* when to tell the truth, and who to tell it to.
> 
> You probably should have remembered that /before/ you refrained from telling your overly-protective childhood best friend about your roommate, and the circumstances under which the two of you met.  
> Damn.

“Hey, Kan?”

You hummed in response, keeping your eyes trained downwards as you continued cooking breakfast.

“I’ve been livin’ here for, what? Three weeks, now? So far, you’ve been doin’ pretty much everything around here: cooking, cleaning…” He trailed off, rubbing his neck a bit. “I’m kinda feelin’ like dead weight around here, ya know? Is there something I can do to help you out?”

You considered, for a moment, his proposition. Honestly, all of the things that you did were done because you: a- had done all of those things, anyways; and, b- you were very particular about the method with which each was done. “I cannot think of anything that needs to be done, Cronus.” You replied, honestly. “And you shouldn’t worry yourself over this, I don’t mind doing these things—actually, I find it rather calming.”

Cronus breathed out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, I’ll think of something.” He huffed, grabbing an orange from the counter as he retreated to the living room.

It was understandable that he felt as though he was imposing his responsibilities onto you, but you honestly did not wish to relinquish all chores to someone who lacks the ability to complete each task in the exact way that they should be, and have been done for so long. His discomfort troubled you, but there was no foreseeable remedy that wouldn’t cause you discomfort.

Although it was selfish of you, Cronus was just going to have to make a sacrifice for your mental health.

…

The November air chilled your skin as you sat in the lunch pavilion with Porrim. With all of your classes done for the day, you were left to debate whether or not you should return to your apartment to spend time with Cronus during his break, or go to Porrim’s house to study.

“Kan-Kitty!” Meulin called as she ran over to you, Kurloz following in tow. “Someone in the parking lot is looking fur you!” She shouted, causing the few other students scattered about to stare in your direction.

“Ah, thank you, Meulin.” You responded as she waved goodbye.

“Were you expecting someone?” Porrim questioned, following you as you collected your books and began walking towards the front parking lot.

“Not to my knowledge.” You retorted, growing a bit wary of the situation. “I do hope that Karkat has not been harmed while father is away…” You muttered to yourself, apprehension rising in your stomach as you hasten your pace. Reaching the parking lot, you hear a shout:

“Hey, Kan!”

Oh.

“Cronus? Is something the matter?” you ask, flinching as you see the glare of disapproval Porrim is casting in his direction.

“Nah, everything’s fine.” Cronus replied, smiling. “I finally found what I could do to help you out!”

As the pieces fell together in your mind, you couldn’t help but smile at the look of satisfaction on his face. However, as you stepped towards him, Porrim grabbed your upper arm and pulled you against her body protectively.

“And just _who_ are you?” She hissed, her words carrying a venomous tone as she stared Cronus down.

Cronus swallowed thickly. “I’m Cronus Ampora. Y’know? Kankri’s roommate?”

Porrim looked like she might faint, her grip tightening around your arm.

“Kanny, can I speak to you for a moment?”

It was a pointless question, as she was already ushering you away and out of Cronus’s earshot.

“Kankri Vantas, what on earth are you thinking?! You don’t even know this guy! He could be abusive, a drunk, or even a criminal, just trying to earn your trust so he can hurt you!” She scolded, her eyes overflowing with concern. “This guy might be dangerous, Kanny. The last thing I want is for something bad to happen to you.” She sighed, making you feel a bit guilty for neglecting to divulge such important information earlier.

“Porrim, I assure you; Cronus is a fine and trustworthy individual. Please, try to get along with him; if not for his sake, then for mine.” You plead, praying that she would be civil with him.

“…Alright, Kanny.” She concedes, gently running a hand through your hair. “However, I am going to drop in for a visit this Saturday to check out the situation.” She decided, pulling you into a hug.

“Fine, just—please, don’t baby me.  It’s embarrassing.” You whined quietly, pulling away from her.

As you returned to Cronus, you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sympathy for the fear that crossed his face as he saw Porrim approaching.

“I assume you will be taking him home, then?” Porrim questioned, jutting out her hip. “Which car is yours?”

“I, uh—actually, I don’t have a car…”

Porrim raised an eyebrow in confusion. “How, then, are you taking him home?”

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Cronus hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards his motorcycle. Porrim scowled a bit, but didn’t make any snide comments, which you were grateful for.

“Fine, Kanny. Just… stay safe.” She cautioned, more implying to Cronus that he had better keep you safe than to actually remind you. She cast one more glare in Cronus’s direction before hugging you and walking off in the direction of her home.

“Well. She’s certainly a firecracker, now; isn’t she?” Cronus laughed nervously, his intimidation obvious in the tone of his voice. “Here, Kan.” He said, suddenly forcing your head into a helmet. “Hop on and I’ll take you home.”

It was a bit awkward, at first; what with you being pressed so tightly against his body (mostly as you clung to him out of fear) but you decided that it wasn’t all that bad. Despite your fear, Cronus made you feel safe. The wind rushing over your bodies was an organized chaos as you sped back to your apartment, the familiar streets of your hometown passing by in a brilliant blur of colour. You definitely could, and would—you suppose, be getting used to this.

…

Saturday came a bit too quickly. You found yourself waking up at the crack of dawn to prepare for Porrim’s arrival. She was an early riser, and there was no doubt in your mind that she would arrive no later than 9 o’clock. Bustling around the kitchen you set to work preparing not only snacks for the visit, but also breakfast for Cronus and yourself. With your attention entirely devoted to the tasks ahead of you, you almost didn’t notice as Cronus came shuffling out of his room, still groggy with sleep.

“Kankri. It is 7 in the morning on a _Saturday._ ” He groaned, irritated with your waking him up at such an unreasonable hour. “What the fuck are you doing all of this stuff for, anyways?”

Shit. You forgot to tell Cronus about Porrim’s visit, didn’t you?

“Well—actually.” You begin cautiously; unsure as to whether or not you were prepared for his reaction. “I may have promised Porrim that she could come over this morning to—er—get to know you better.” It wasn’t a lie, per se; more so an extension of what _may_ have been _partially_ true.

The mention of Porrim woke Cronus right the fuck up, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Don’t get me wrong, Kan, I would love to stay,” He began, forcing a nervous smile. “but it turns out that Porrim actually seems to hate me, for some reason? And I would rather be pretty much anywhere else.” He added as he hurried back to his room.

Oh no. He was _not_ getting out of this that easily.

A moment before he managed to close his bedroom door, you shoved your foot into the space, preventing him from escaping you.

“Cronus, please; hear me out. She only hates you because she doesn’t know you.” You state, pleading for him to stay.

“And I think both she and I would rather it stay that way, thanks.” He replied tersely, refusing to meet your eyes.

“She’s a really kind person, honestly!” You assure, refusing to stand down. “She’s just worried about me being hurt. Once she realizes how trustworthy you are, then I can assure you she will not be as standoffish. Just give it a chance, please?” You entreat, pushing the door open to look at his face fully.

With a groan, Cronus begrudgingly complies; assisting you in placing trays of cookies into the oven.

At around a quarter to 9, Porrim arrives; bringing coffee for the three of you, and a censorious scowl for Cronus. Together, you set up the snacks across the coffee table in the living room; however, due to the limited space, you find yourself uncomfortably sandwiched between Porrim and Cronus, as they continue their stare-down. Endeavoring to lessen the tension, you attempt to hand out the cookies; but neither of them give you much acknowledgement other than a soft grunt as they refuse to relent.

 Instead, you elbow Cronus in the side.

 _‘Cronus, you are acting like a child.’_ You mouth at him, using the moment his gaze falters to your advantage.

 _‘She started it!’_ He mouths back, and you can practically hear the petulant whine as you cast him a judgmental _“what the fuck did I just say”_ look.

“So, Cronus, was it?” Porrim begins, emphasizing Cronus’s name in a manner where one could tell that she knew his name well enough, but intended to make him squirm. “What is it you do for a living?”

Cronus smirked. “I’m in the music business.” He replied, obviously believing that such a vague answer would satisfy her.

He did not know her well enough to realize that it definitely would not.

Porrim smiled sardonically. “By that logic, I suppose one might say that I am in the art business and Kankri is in the literature business. Isn’t it _funny_ how different things sound when one does not use specifics?” She smiled condescendingly.

Oh, for the love of _God_.

“He is currently giving guitar lessons at Harvey’s Music Store.” You blurt out, answering for him. Porrim gives you a sweet smile.

“Thank you for informing me, Kanny. At least _someone_ around here is being honest.” She spat venomously, making your skin crawl. “Now, explain to me how the two of you met.”

Fuck.

_Fuck._

You had intentionally refrained from telling Porrim about that little…incident. If she knew, she would insist on treating you as though you were even more of a child than she had previously regarded you as. However… hearing of Cronus’s heroic actions may also change her view of him substantially… You debated with yourself, conflicted as to which consequences would be the most sufferable for all involved parties.

Cronus, sensing your apprehension, had not yet replied; instead, he chose to watch you, searching for an answer. Slowly, you nodded your head, signifying your approval.

 _‘I’ll do it.’_ You mouthed to him, as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.   

With a shaky inhale, you begin. “Do you, perhaps, remember earlier this month when I fell asleep at your home and ended up leaving around 2 a.m.?” You inquire, to which she nods warily. “While I was running home I—there was an alleyway that lead to a street away from my building but—“ You stutter, unsure of the how to go about your story in a way that would worry her the least.

After around 45 seconds of you grappling for an answer, Cronus sighs and shushes you, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest on the back of your head.

“Some lowlife-scum cornered Kankri out behind a shady motel: the shady motel that I just happened to be fortunately-unfortunate enough to be holed up in for a few days.” He chuckles, carding his fingers through your hair. “Kan tried to get away, but that asshole pulled a knife on him and pinned him to the ground—“

“He _WHAT?!”_ Porrim cried, rage burning in her eyes.

Cronus shushes her as well, and she quiets as she motions for him to continue.

“I had gotten up at 2 a.m., jonesin’ for a cigarette, only to find that I was fresh out. Go figure, ammirite? Anyway, I was on my way to the convenience store, see? When all of a sudden I hear yelling. Bein’ the cool dude that I am, I knew that it was up to me to check it out and make sure nothin’ dangerous was going down.  Anyway, I pulled the dude off ‘a Kankri and sent him running like the trash he is.” Cronus explained, his voice somewhat prideful as he mentions his intervening. “After he’s gone, I realize that the kid he was pinnin’ down is basically losing his _shit:_ crying, bleeding and trembling, all curled up on his side. I pulled him up and tried speaking to him, but he just closed his eyes tighter and kept on crying. I picked him up to see if he could still stand on his own feet, then kept asking him over and over if he was hurt and shit—but, still, nothin’.” He shakes his head, looking down at you with a strange sort of pity. “When he finally calmed down, he told me he was okay and I walked him back here. That’s it.”

 Porrim looks at him in disbelief, guilt evident on her face. “I’m sorry; I had absolutely no idea that something like that happened.” She confessed. “It’s just—I’ve done my best to protect Kanny since we were children, when he and Karkat lost their mother. In a sense, I decided to become his mother.” She sighed, laughing as she brought a hand up to brush the hair from your eyes. “I do feel relieved, knowing what I do now. Honestly, I wish you had told me sooner; then I wouldn’t have made such a fool out of myself by harassing someone who only wanted the same thing that I do.”

“Don’t worry about it; I was acting pretty childish, too.” Cronus murmured. “I was just worried that you were going to try and convince him to be afraid of me, or somethin’.”

“But _you!_ I _told_ you to just stay the night at my house; do you have any idea what could have happened to you if Cronus hadn’t been out at such a ridiculous hour?” She reprimanded, making you shrink in on yourself a bit in embarrassment. “Not only that, but then you refused to tell me about any of it! I am so thankful that you’re alright, but you could have confided in me. I worry about you so much, Kanny; and things like this only give me reason to worry! You understand, don’t you?”

You nodded in response, leaning into her as she pulled your head onto her shoulder.

…

After the tension had dissipated, the three of you were able to salvage some semblance of a decent conversation. Both of their tattoos had been done at the same shop that Porrim worked in, so they spend a large portion of time discussing that—much to your boredom. Eventually, Cronus even offered to play the two of you a song on his guitar. You all talked early into the night, until Porrim received a text from Kanaya reminding her of an appointment. Surprisingly, Cronus even offered to walk her down to the main lobby with you.

On her way out, though, as she hugged you goodbye; unbeknownst to you, a secret message was interchanged between your two close friends.

_‘If you hurt him, I will cut your dick off.’_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of hate this chapter a lot???  
> Fuck it.


	4. "I can, like, just see myself falling in love with you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Kankri Vantas, and you live a life of celibacy.  
> You actually don't remember why or how you vowed to remain single. Sometimes, you wonder if it was a conscious decision, or if it was just the product of your upbringing.   
> No matter the origin, you have kept your vow for 22 years, never once even coming remotely close to straying.  
> Until today, you suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some fucking romantic progression.  
> Even I was getting bored of the vapid plotline, holy shit.   
> ((translation for Damara in the end notes))

Cronus all but tore the apartment door off with excitement as he burst inside, effectively causing you to fall from where you were perched on the couch onto the floor unceremoniously.

"Cronus! I was trying to read!" You shout, both surprised and slightly irritated by his recklessness. "What has gotten into you?"

Throwing his jacket onto the hook by the door, Cronus grinned from ear to ear, his eyes bursting with excitement. "I got a gig, Kan!" He cried. "Turns out my friend, Meenah, has an in with the owner of that new club downtown, "Derse" and they invited me to do a set!"

Your eyes widen. Derse had opened up around two or so months ago, but had become an overnight success; Porrim had gone there one or two times, and both times it had been packed from wall to wall with people. "Cronus, that's wonderful!" You praise, pulling yourself off the floor as he offered you his hand.

"You're gonna come and listen to me, right?" He smiles hopefully, picking up the book you had been reading from the floor.

"Although I cannot say that clubs are my 'cup of tea', so to speak; I suppose that I could make an exception just this once." You reply, relishing in his enthusiasm.

"Great! It's Friday at 10. I’ll be around to pick you up beforehand, so make sure you're ready." He instructs you, before heading to his room to practice.

...

It wasn’t until 30 minutes before the designated leaving time that it became all too apparent to you that you had no idea of what to wear to a club. The colour spectrum of clothes in your closet consisted mainly of sweaters; most of which were given to you by Porrim, so they weren’t exactly what one might call “cool”.

Damn. You had wanted to make a good impression on Cronus's friends in hopes that you wouldn't seem like too much of an outsider while you were there.

As if your apprehension couldn’t intensify, your heart skips a beat as the sound the front door being opened rings through your apartment, signifying Cronus’s arrival.

An arrival not expected for another half an hour.

"Hey, Kan! I got outta’ work early and thought I'd check in on you before we left." He called, heading towards your bedroom. "Are you almost ready?"

"Actually, I am unsure of what type of clothing is considered appropriate for the establishment we are going to." You reply. Although you had a decent idea of what others might be wearing, you knew that you did not own, nor would you usually desire to own, anything of that sort.

Cronus chuckled a bit, making your frown deepen. "Yeah, I don't think your oversized sweaters are gonna make you feel too normal there, huh? Hold on, I can scrape something together." He assured as he headed off in the direction of his room. You couldn’t hold back the slightest bit of worry regarding what sort of thing he might bring back for you; not only was he significantly larger than you, but you had a feeling that wearing his clothes would make you stand out even more.

He returned a few minutes later, informing you that he was leaving a few things outside the door for you to wear. You mumbled a thank you as you retrieved and inspected the clothing he had given you.

As expected, the shirt he had given you hung low on your frame, dipping down toward your mid-thigh, and looking more like a dress than anything—what with the 11 inch difference between the two of you. Luckily, the jacket he had added would hide a bit of the size, and keep you warm without one of your unusually thick sweaters.

You felt odd wearing his clothes; completely unlike yourself. However, although you felt a bit uncomfortable, the feeling of being someone new, even someone who just _looked_ like they were not, actually, a dorky, 22 year old English major, was overwhelmingly exciting for you. When you were an even _dorkier_ teenager, you would entertain brief fantasies about what it would be like to do something out of the norm for you—something that would shock your family and friends. But, now, here you were: going out a 10 at night to listen to someone you _knew_ perform in a _club._

It was like being a geekier Cinderella from a family of devout Christians.

…And with a greaser Fairy-Godmother, you guess?

You opened the bedroom door cautiously; a bit nervous about how he would react to your appearance. Cronus gave you a once over before casting you a shark-like grin. "Even though my clothes make you look even tinier, if I didn't know any better, I might think that you were a completely different person."

…

The club was dimly lit, with only a handful of multi-colored lights scattered haphazardly across the ceiling giving a dull glow to the walls. The smell of alcohol hung thickly in the air, making your head hazy with vertigo as you attempted to focus past the hypnotic beat of music. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you lingered in the corner, huddled away from the steady number of partygoers beginning to flood the club. Retreating further into yourself, your heart nearly stopped all together when you two arms reached around you and pulled you backwards. You struggled uselessly against the larger body, inciting a laugh from the other.

"Doll, don't worry about it. First time at a club, huh? Cronus asked me to meet you out here to make sure you were going to do okay without him near you during the performance—you wouldn’t believe how many creeps will try to grope people when everything is in chaos.” The person warned you, loosening their grip as you reached an area far enough away from the crowd to escape the dull roar of chatter. You turned yourself to face them, taking in their light brown eyes and red tipped Mohawk.

"And _who_ would you happen to be?" You questioned, the irritation prominent in your voice.

"Oh, shit; sorry about that. I'm Rufioh, one of Cronus's friends." He said, extending his hand in introduction.  "We'll be hanging out together while he performs, then you and I get to head backstage and meet with a few of our other friends."

You shake his hand, making a small noise of discomfort as he begins pulling you back out toward the crowd, which had grown substantially since you had left mere moments ago.

…

All in all, the performance was really amazing. Cronus seemed so...at home. You even found yourself moving with the Technicolor clad crowd at one point or another, despite your claustrophobia. By the end of it, though, you felt relieved as Rufioh led you away from the disarray to meet with Cronus.

You hadn’t really known what to expect when you went backstage. In movies and on television, going ‘backstage’ at a concert or event was something glamorous—all twinkling lights and refreshments. Instead, you found yourself in a small, dull room, filled mostly by sound equipment. Right in the center, there was a makeshift relaxation area consisting of a single, stained coffee table, surrounded by 3 tattered couches that stank of sweat and cigarettes.

On the leftmost couch sat a thin Japanese woman. The cigarette she was smoking, however, smelled somewhat…off? You couldn’t really explain the sensation, but the contents of said cigarette struck you as incredibly dubious. _Is this what cool people do?_ You though briefly, choosing not to dwell on that train of thought any longer.

Across from her sat two women: one with long, braided hair and fuchsia glasses, and the other with short hair and white, horn-rimmed glasses. The girl with the fuchsia glasses had her arm strewn across the shoulders of the girl beside her, who looked just as uncomfortable and out of place as you felt. Suddenly, Cronus ran back from the stage, headphones still around his neck.

"So, what did you think?" Cronus asked as he approached you, still glowing with excitement.

"That was wonderful, Cronus! I was really impressed." You smile as he directs you to sit beside him on one of the couches.

"Cro, ain't you gonna introduce us to your new frond?" The girl with the braids inquired, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone, this is Kan, my roommate." He said flippantly, motioning to you.

"Kan-KRI, thank you." You correct, glaring at him. "Nice to meet you--?"

"I'm Meenah, aka the baddest bitch around." The braided girl smirks. "This here's Aranea, my super-hot girlfrond." She laughed, inciting an embarrassed blush from the other. "And the bitch with the blunt over there is Damara."

Blowing a thick ring of smoke from her mouth, the Japanese woman stared at you disparagingly, as if to sum you up, before she turns to Cronus.

"この子は誰ですか？あなたの小さな赤ちゃんはトイファック？"

"Fuck, I can't ever figure out a damn thing you say." Cronus laughed, turning to Rufioh, as he took a seat next to Damara. "Mind translating over here?"

Rufioh just laughed uncomfortably. "Honestly, I'm not even sure you wanna know."

You glance at her askance. Somehow, you don't really think you should trust this Damara girl.

"Alright! I think it's time for drinks!" Meenah shouts, pulling a case of beer from behind the couch and placing it on the center table.

Sans Aranea and yourself, the other 4 spend the next hour or so drinking and chatting idly. By midnight, you notice with a feeling of exasperation that Cronus, having overdone it with the celebratory shots they brought out a half hour earlier, is so shit faced that you doubt he'll even be able to drive the two of you home.

Fucking Incredible.

"Damn, Cronus really can't hold his alcohol, can he?" Rufioh remarks incredulously, noticing the way that Cronus has all but passed out on top of you. "I could drive you two back to your apartment, if you want."

"Yes, I believe that is virtually our only option." You grunt in distaste as you fail to lift Cronus into a sitting position.

Rufioh, being stronger than you, manages to drag Cronus's drunken ass out to his car and throw him in back, sprawled out across the seat.

When you arrive at your apartment, you immediately regret moving into a building so old that there is no elevator to assist you in carrying your useless friend up to the third floor. With Rufioh holding Cronus's upper body and you carrying his legs, the three of you manage to make it to your floor after 30 minutes of nearly falling as you half-dragged Cronus up the narrow staircase.

Inside, you lead Rufioh to Cronus's room, where he dumps him roughly onto the bed before rolling his shoulders to ease the strain.

"Thank you for your assistance, Rufioh.” You say as you glance upon your disheveled roommate, who is currently passed the fuck out across the length of the bed.

"Hey, it's no problem, doll. Someone's gotta do it when he gets like this." He laughs as he bids you goodbye.

You stand there for a moment after Rufioh leaves, not entirely sure what to do with yourself. Being a devout man, your father had adamantly sworn off alcohol—only partaking in it temporarily after the loss of your mother. Even then, he had never gotten drunk, to your knowledge. Never before had you been faced with taking care of an intoxicated individual, and all you had to guide you were hazy memories of situations similar to this in television shows.

 In the end, all you could really think of doing is grabbing him a cold glass of water. Water makes things better, right?

You return to his room, placing the water on the nightstand as you pull the blankets around him to protect his body from the unreliable heating systems of your aging building. Satisfied with your work, you are turning to leave when you feel his hands wrap firmly around your hips, pulling you against the bed.

"Cronus! Unhand me at once!" You warn, trying and failing to remove the arms that are locked around you.

"Kan, wait." He slurs, displaying just how intoxicated he is. "You are _literally_ the best. I like you sooo much."

You sigh, laughing a bit. "Thank you, Cronus. I find you quite enjoyable as well—"

"No, Kan!" He interjects, his voice taking on a defensive edge. "You're so great. Like—you  wake up and make food for me, and tell me I'm cool an’ shit, and you're cute and perfect and I can, like, just _see_ myself falling in love with you."

You freeze.

_What._

"Cronus, you're drunk and I—I can’t date I just—"

"Kan, ugh. Just hold on like, 2 seconds, m'kay. I know about your thing. Your uh—No sex thing? Celery, or whatever?  I get that shit, and I ain't gonna try nothin'. I just wanna keep you here right now. Just sleep next to me? Please?" He pleaded, his hands tightening as they fisted your clothes. You sighed in resignation, allowing his arms to pull you back onto the bed with him. As you turn to face him, he smiles softly in contentment, removing his hands from your waist to hold your hand with one, and brush the other through your hair.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face and your name on his lips, and you can’t help but kiss his forehead as the small smile of satisfaction widens, even in slumber.

"I’ve also found myself growing fonder and fonder of you, Cronus; and I think I could try dating you." You whisper, lying down in his arms.

Pressed against his chest, the steady beating of his heart becomes all that seems to exist at that moment. For once in your life, someone is _here_ and _real_ and actually holding onto you and they _mean_ it. Outside of your apartment, there are people, and stars, and lights, and noise, but, for once, none of it matters. You don’t need to think about what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or next year, or even _today,_ because, in this one fraction of a moment in your life time, you are realizing that you don’t actually have to be alone.

And that is amazing in a way that you never expected it to be.

Lulled by the warmth of his body against yours, you fell into a light slumber, holding on to your to-be lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damara: "Who is this kid? Is he your little baby fuck toy?"


	5. "Thank God for Tequila"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, you were hungover as fuck.  
> Normally, you would lay in bed and just drown out the world while you waited for the pain to recede, and that's what you planned to do, today.  
> That is, until you realize that you're *not* alone in your bed.  
> You don't know what you did, but you need to fucking fix it before he wakes up.  
> ((Cronus's POV the morning after chapter four))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fucking hate this chapter a lot but just take it just fucking take it im don e

The first thing that registered in your mind as you roused yourself from the heavy stupor of sleep was the searing pain throbbing in your skull. Fuck, you were hung over. A foolish attempt to open your eyes ended in an even more intense wave of pain erupting through your head, making you groan in agony. God fucking damn it; you really should have stopped after 2 beers and three shots of tequila.

God, you must have looked like an idiot—in front of _Kankri,_ too. Did you even drive home last night? With the severity of your hangover, you prayed to god that you hadn’t even attempted it. Refusing to get up, you laid in your bed for a good 20 minutes, cursing your poor decision making skills.

That is, until you registered the warm presence pressed against you. Well—almost _clinging_ to you.

Your eyes shot open, revealing a mop of chocolate brown hair.

Oh shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit._

What the fuck did you do to Kankri?

Fuck, fuck, fuck—you would _never_ forgive yourself if you did something stupid while you were drunk off your ass.

The once agonizing pain was instantly forgotten as you attempted to disentangle yourself from the smaller boy as cautiously as possible. Hopefully, he would sleep long enough for you to figure out a fucking plan, instead of just staring at him like a tool.

You had to force yourself away; there was no way you could handle this situation until you eased the pounding in your head, which had turned into a dull roar as you brain jumped to conclusions, making you even more anxious.

Two Advil pills and a glass of water later, you found yourself hesitating, lingering in the door frame of your room. Despite the gripping fear and confusion that had taken hold of your mind, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger over his slight form. His lightly tanned skin nearly glowed in the subdued light from the semi-opaque curtains, long eyelashes framed by curls of soft auburn hair. His eyes flickered beneath their lids—lost in dreams, with the slightest smile on his lips.

God, he was beautiful.

Kankri was still deep in sleep. Funny, of all of the days for his consistent state of insomnia to calm, it had to be the one day that you needed him awake. Although you wanted to know the details of the events leading up to him sleeping beside you, would it be better if he were awake and confused, or asleep and serene?

If he remained asleep, then you could postpone accepting this clichéd “I was so drunk I forgot about what I did last night” scenario. All other moments, he was offering you advice and assistance when you didn’t particularly need it; but, now, when you would have absolutely loved his level-headed guidance, _he_ was the one who was causing you to feel so conflicted and lost.

You glance at him one last time before just saying ‘ _fuck it’_ and making your decision.

In the end, you decide to go the coward’s route and refuse to acknowledge that this had ever happened. With deliberate movements, you force your body back to the bed, lifting him into your arms as you rushed him to his own room. Carefully, you laid him down, arranging the pillows and pulling the duvet over him. Maybe if you made it _seem_ like he had fallen asleep in his own room, he would wake up and believe it.

In your haste to leave, you had almost made it out of his room entirely; that is, until you heard a soft groan behind you. Cautiously, you turned back to the sleeping boy, praying that maybe he was still dreaming, that maybe, just _maybe_ , he wouldn’t wake up, and you would have the chance to get out of this overall shitty situation.

Yeah—no, he was waking up.

Two weary auburn eyes opened, slowly adjusting. Scrubbing a hand across his face, Kankri’s eyes flickered over to you, settling on your face.

"Uh—hey, chief..."

He blinked a few times, his brain finally registering your presence.

"Cronus?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously. Even if you did, somehow, manage to convince him that whatever had led up to him sleeping beside you had been a dream, there was absolutely _no_ way to explain why you were just standing around  in his room, watching him while he slept.

"Sorry to disturb you, Kan! I was just makin' sure you weren't too partied out. I know I am." You laughed, more out of nerves than anything. "Hope I didn't wake ya' I'll just be in the living room if you wanna hang out." You smiled insincerely as you turned to leave.

"Ah—Cronus, wait!" He called, and there was a dull thudding noise as he tumbled from his bed in a failed attempt to stand too quickly.

"Whoa, hey! You alright there, chief?" You asked, rushing back to his collapsed form. As you kneeled beside him, he lifted a small hand and grasped your shirt, turning his eyes to you.

"Wait, about what happened last night; I have something to tell you!"

Shit.

"What—uh…what actually _happened_ last night?" You asked, cringing a bit with guilt as his face fell into a slight frown.

"Oh, I... I thought you might remember a portion of it..." He mumbled, looking away from you. “Forgive me for assuming things, I am not used to inebriation, and I am unsure of how it affects an individual. But, you…you really don't remember _any_ of what you said to me?

Taking the hand that was currently fisted in your shirt into your own, you began rubbing the skin with your thumb comfortingly. "Could you tell me? I didn't hurt ya', did I?"

Kankri paled "Oh, oh dear, no! Far from it! Actually, what you said, it— _you_ made me really happy." He smiled, and fuck if it didn't make your heart melt in your chest.

You chuckled, a large portion of your worry dissipating. "Was it really that nice? Mind tellin' me what it was?"

He shifted a bit, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. "You told me that you wanted to become my significant other, and that you would be able to respect my vow if I accepted." He simpered, glancing up at you. "My answer is 'yes'."

Holy shit.

_God bless tequila._

"This is—wow, I can't even express how excited I am." You stutter, surprised by his approval. “Would it be cool if I kissed you?" You chuckled awkwardly. There was something about Kankri—something special. Just hearing that he returned your feelings suddenly transformed from your mature confidence to the timid, wizard loving, and bespectacled dork of your early adolescence.

"I've..well... I've never _actually_ kissed anyone..." He admits, fidgeting uncomfortably as he refused to meet your eyes.

_What._

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, like, _never_ never?" You asked in quiet astonishment. His vow had kept him from dating for most of his life, but _never_???

"Never, Cronus." He murmured self-consciously. "There were more important things to do, and I can’t say that romance interested me all that much."

"Well..." You began, glancing at him nervously. "Would you like to?"

He hesitated a moment, uncertainty flashing across his face.

"Yes. Yes, I-I think I would."

You leaned in and lightly touched your lips to his. He was cautious, his body slightly rigid with tension. It was fairly obvious that he was inexperienced, but you didn't fucking care; it was awkward and beautiful and pure and perfect and you were overwhelmed by the softness of his lips and the realization that ohmygod,you'redoingit,youarekissingKankriVantas.

After about 30 seconds, he breaks the kiss and rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck with a soft sigh.

"I'm so happy, Cronus." He whispered, his hot breath spreading across your skin, making your hair stand on end.

Everything about this situation seemed so surreal, and you almost expected to wake up and find yourself all alone in your bed, as usual. You had realized your feelings for him pretty early on, but you’d never given yourself the luxury of even considering the idea that anything could come of it. After all, there was no way that he would go for someone like you; you were both too different, and he only saw you as the guy who just so happened to save him from some thug in an alley. He could never return your feelings; that’s what you had told yourself.

Yet, here the two of you were: so close that you could smell the apple blossom shampoo he used; feel the softness of his skin as he held onto your hand tightly; and feel the even push of his breath as he relaxed against your body.

Sitting on the floor of his bedroom, bathed in the slits of light from the Venetian blinds, you thank your lucky stars that you ran out of smokes at 2 am on a Saturday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi: only a few chapters remain until they do the frick-frack \\(=^・ω・^=)/


	6. This is going to be the shittiest Christmas ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first Christmas where you've been dating someone.  
> Well, *every* date of the year is the first time you've ever been dating someone.   
> You had hoped for something simple-- sure, he couldn't meet your father, but the two of you could still have a nice, quiet holiday at home, right?  
> Wrong.  
> Giving your attention to both your lover AND your little brother at the same time is harder than one might assume. 
> 
> ((Sorry, I threw a lot of Vantas Brotherly feelings in. My sister moved to Hungary back in September, and I /really/ miss her, so part of this chapter is more for me than anything haha.))

"What the fuck do you mean you're going out for Christmas?!" Karkat shouted across the table at your father.

Wow. You forgot what family dinner was like.

"Karkat, you know how I feel about swearing." Your father scolds, placing his fork on his plate. "And I believe my meaning was quite clear. I will be working with the Mission for the holiday season, and I, regretfully, will not be at home this Christmas." He sighed.

"Where the fu—“Karkat caught himself, earning a disapproving glance from your father. "Where the *heck* do you expect me to go?"

Your father smiled warmly. "I'm sure Kankri would love to spend the holidays with his younger brother."

Well, you suppose he isn't entirely wrong. You did love spending time with Karkat, but you loved spending time together as a _family._

"Fine." Karkat scoffed, which seemed to be a satisfying answer for father, as he returned to eating.

As soon as your father dropped his attention, Karkat leans in toward you, mumbling in your ear: "If you drag me to church, I will ditch you and go to the Maryam's instead; I swear to God."

...

It was around 10 o'clock in the morning that your father dropped Karkat off at your apartment, despite the fact that he had told you he would be by around noon.

When the alert buzzer sounded, signifying Karkat's arrival, you had unlocked the entryway door for him, as you hastily threw on some normal clothes. Cronus, meanwhile, simply groaned and rolled over, refusing to rouse himself from his stupor.

After declaring your relationship, Cronus had basically moved into your room, usually only returning to his for clothes. Because of this, thankfully, Karkat could use the same room that he was used to.

He would have thrown a fit, otherwise.

"Kankri, I’m here!" Karkat called. You had forgotten the fact that he had a key to your apartment for emergencies, or, as he so eloquently called it: "in case your sorry ass dies and nobody else gives enough of a fuck to remove your rotting carcass."

Quite the aesthetic thinker, your brother.

"Yes, brother; I will be out momentarily. Mind your patience, need I remind you that you were the one who arrived two hours earlier than planned." You reprimanded, earning a scoff from the other.

He refused to hug you as he continued looking over your shelf, picking up book after book and reading the summaries before placing them back wherever he damn well pleased—disregarding your organization.

"Would you like me to make some popcorn so we can watch a movie together?" You questioned, although, knowing your brother's romantic comedy obsession, you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

"Fine, but I get to pick what we watch."

…

After making the popcorn, you joined him on the couch, pulling a blanket around his shoulders—mostly out of habit, but partly out of a passive aggressive guilt trip for his refusing to acknowledge you.

Although, just as you were about to begin the film, Cronus came stumbling out of your room, dressed only in his boxers and a wife beater.

Both he and Karkat stared at one another for a long moment, shocked.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Karkat shouted, jumping up from the couch.

"What the fuck, Kankri! Nobody told me your kid brother was staying over!" Cronus groaned, his voice still gruff from sleep.

_Kankri Vantas, master of forgetting to inform his loved one of things since 1991. You win all the awards of dumbassery. All of them._

"Karkat, calm down. This is my roommate, Cronus—“

"Why the fuck was he in your room?!" Karkat interjected, glaring at Cronus. "If you laid _one_ fucking finger on him without his consent, I will tear off your skin and fashion your bones into a stunning mantel piece. Tourists will travel the world to see the legendary work of art known as 'YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR FUCKING HANDS TO YOURSELF, ASSHOLE'." He snarled.

Cronus groaned in annoyance. "It's too fuckin' early for this." He muttered, slamming his palm to his forehead. "Listen, kid; Kan and I are dating. No, not fucking. Just. Dating. And, no, I have not, nor would I ever do anything to him that he didn't absolutely consent to." He scowled. "Kankri, why the fuck is it that everyone who cares about you thinks I've gotta be some lowlife scum?"

_Because you kind of give that impression_. You thought silently, refusing to let such a cruel thing pass your lips.

Karkat did it for you, though.

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because you look sketchy as hell, dipshit!" He hissed, striding up to Cronus and jabbing his finger in the taller man's chest.

"Excuse me? What? _Oh_ , sorry! I couldn't hear you down there, Kankri doppelgänger!" Cronus laughed, holding his hand up to his ear.

You felt offended _for_ Karkat.

_Did Cronus even realize that your brother was taller than you?_

Karkat was absolutely livid. "You know what? No. You don't fucking deserve to even be _near_ my brother. For the rest of the weekend, you're not allowed to touch him!"

"Karkat, I understand that you are irritated, but you do not have the power to control others actions based on your own opinions. Furthermore, I—“

"Kankri, shut the fuck up! If this Christmas is going to work out for any of us, I don't want to see him near you." Karkat replied, dark eyes burning with detestation. "I'll sleep in Kankri's room with him, and you can have fun sleeping all alone, wallowing in your bitter tears as you suffer wet dream after wet dream fantasizing about my brother, you disgusting price of shit."

Cronus looked just about ready to strangle him, his hands shaking at his sides as he clenched his fists.

"You listen here, Kitkat, or whatever the fuck your name is, you can't just barge in here and tell me that I'm not allowed to be near my own boyfriend! Just because you think you're hot shit doesn't mean—“

"Cronus, may I speak to you in the other room, please?" You ask quickly, pulling him away from the living room.

"Kan, he can't just—“

"Yes, Cronus; he can." You sigh. "Karkat already feels angry enough, what with our father abandoning us on the only day of the year he actually _likes,_ but now he feels obligated to protect me from you, because it probably takes his mind off of things and makes him feel important. It's nothing personal; I think he's just afraid of having to share me with you on something that's always been our family's holiday, because he sees you as an outsider." You say, minding your volume. "I know it's not fair to you, but it's only 3 days. Please, do this for me."

He sighs in frustration. "Fine. But you better make this up to me when he's gone." He coos seductively, reaching a hand down to rest in your waist, earning a glare from you.

"Cronus..." You warn.

"I’m kidding, sheesh, babe." He laughs as he kisses you, following you out of the room to where Karkat is resting on the couch, still giving Cronus a look of deep and utter contempt.

This was going to be the shittiest Christmas ever.

...

Half way through the movie, Karkat gets a phone call, opting to answer it in the other room. Not that you minded. Honestly, you hadn't been able to focus on the movie past the fact that Karkat banned Cronus from the couch and, begrudgingly, gave him a single cushion to sit on the floor with. About 30 minutes in, when laid his head on your leg and began rubbing his hand against your inner thigh, Karkat threw a fit and forced you to witch places with him, leaving a disgruntled Cronus to sit in an irritated silence, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

As soon as Karkat was out of the room, Cronus was slinking up next to you on the couch, kissing your neck.

"Cronus, _stop_. I warned you about this kind of behavior." You scold, pushing him away.

"Sorry, baby. I can't stand the thought of going three whole days without touchin' you." He purrs, taking your hands in his.

From the other room, you can hear bits and pieces of Karkat's conversation. Most of it is arguing, par usual. Nothing seems out of the ordinary until you hear a name mentioned, and Cronus must hear it, too, because he tenses up.

_Ampora._

"Yeah, yeah, go spend more time making out with that hipster douche. Call me when you don't have your tongue shoved so deep down your hate boyfriend's throat, asshole." Karkat finished, imitating a lisp on the final word, before returning back to the room. Both you and Cronus instantly focus on him, confusion on your face and surprise on his.

"...did you say 'Ampora' a minute ago?" Cronus asked cautiously.

"Wow, way to listen in on my conversation. And, yeah, I did. Why the fuck do you care?" Karkat questions, taking his place beside you again.

"Ampora as in _Eridan_ Ampora?" Cronus presses, a strange look on his face.

"Yeah? Do you know him?"

Cronus laughs. "I would hope so. He's my younger brother."

Karkat's mouth falls open. "Are you fucking serious? _You’re_ the loser brother who ditched out because his dad wanted him to enter military training, and he wanted to become a famous musician?"

Cronus grimaced a bit at that description, his jaw tightening. "I guess you could say that."

Karkat laughed incredulously "Out of all the assholes out there, my brother had to rope in an Ampora. I thought you looked familiar."

"I’m guessin' that was the younger Captor you were talking to?"

Karkat nodded. "That lisping tool hasn’t seen me since school got out; instead, he’s been spending all of his goddam time making out with your brother." Karkat noted with a tone of bitterness. "They both hate each other! All they do is bitch about one another, but next thing you know they're connected permanently at the fucking mouth."

Cronus groaned "Tell me about it. I walked in on them violently snogging on multiple occasions."

Karkat laughed a bit. "I would have just hung out with both of them, but being around them and their perennial hormonal cloud of sexual tension makes me physically ill. Fuckers can't keep their hands off one another!"

The two laugh at that, and you can't help but let a smile pass over your face as well. Maybe you could salvage this holiday. At least they weren’t at each other’s throats.

...

Cronus seems to take Karkat's "no physical contact" demand as a personal challenge. If Karkat left the room, Cronus was all over you: kissing, touching, and biting—the whole shebang. Needless to say, you stayed in a consistent state of heightened anxiety for 2 full days.

Despite the fact that he had begun to trust Cronus, Karkat was unwavering in his demand. He clung to your side as he did when he was a child. Even though it was endearing, you could tell that Cronus was growing impatient; after all, sharing your bed was about as far as your relationship had gone this far in terms of intimacy.

Even so, it would be a lie to say that you didn't enjoy sharing a bed with Karkat.

The two of you, being regular insomniacs, spent the majority of the night just talking or listening to music.

Moments like these are few and far in between for the two of you, especially since you moved out a few years ago. Despite the fact that you see one another at least once a week, you miss him a lot. You miss waking up to a grumpy, grumbling mess who meanders through the kitchen, still half asleep. You miss the teenager who curls up on the couch and cries over his favorite moments in films. And, most of all, you miss these rare moments of tranquility that the two of you would share.

He feigns indifference toward you, but it's easy to tell that he misses you just as much as you do him. After all, the two of you basically grew up alone after the death of your mother. Your grief stricken father dedicated himself to the church to distract from the hole in his universe, leaving you to watch over Karkat for long periods of time.

Right now, you know that your brother needs to fool himself into thinking that he's protecting you from Cronus. He wasn't acting out because he hated Cronus—he would have been this resentful regardless of whom it was that he had to divide your attention with.

In a way, you were all each other had.

"Why don't you hug me anymore?" You ask quietly, breaking the heavy silence the room had fallen into as the playlist lagged.

"I didn't think I had to." He muttered, sighing as he rolled over to look at you. "You know that I love you; why should it be necessary?"

"It's not necessary." You agree. "But it's nice. Holding on to those you love—reminding yourself that they exist."

He looks at you, wide-eyed. "You worry that I don't exist? That’s not fucking healthy."

You laugh a bit. "Definitely not; I just worry about losing you."

He faltered, biting his lip.

"Like mom?"

"...yeah." You whispered.

"O-oh." He stuttered, turning is eyes away.

You closed your eyes, letting the sleepless exhaustion wash over you. It was obvious that you weren't sleeping tonight, and you doubted that Karkat would, either.

He wrapped his arms around you gently, his hair just barely brushing your shoulder.

The clock struck midnight, and Cronus texted you.

_“pretend youre gonna go take a piss and come here instead”_

These two were going to be the fucking death of you.

…

When Karkat left the next morning, you weren’t quite sure of what to do with yourself. You lingered by the door for a while, until Cronus wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“Are you okay, kitten?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

You sigh. “I suppose so. Karkat may be quite a handful at times, but he’s so important to me.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” He promises, nuzzling your hair. “He loves you, doesn’t he?”

You smile a bit.

“Yes.”  

“You wanna make up for those three days?” He purrs in your ear, and there was little you could do to hide it as your face suffused with colour.

“I…I think I would like that.” You manage to squeak out before he pushes you up against the door, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you up with his hips.

“Merry Christmas, babe.”


	7. I thought I might never get the chance to tell you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have never really been a big fan of holidays, and Valentine's day, especially, just seemed slightly unnecessary to you.  
> What was the point of having one day a year be appointed as "special", just because on is expected to hand out stomach turning sweets while they spend time with their significant other?  
> You shouldn't need one day out of the whole year to say that you love someone.  
> ...Should you?  
> \---  
> Being exceptionally considerate had never really been your forte, honestly.  
> Fucking up, however--damn, that was where you were exceptional.  
> Sadly, tonight is no different.  
> There should be something special about today, and you hope you can make it work out. 
> 
> ((I switch POV half through the story. I'm sorry, darlings. ALSO, see notes at the end, because it's actually kind of fun and important??))

“Are you and Cronus doing anything special for Valentine’s day?” Porrim asked you casually, looking up from painting her nails as the two of you reclined on her bed.

“We have not planned anything, thus far. Although, I suppose the holiday tradition is to spend time with your significant other…” You ruminated, attempting to recall what, exactly, couples were expected to do together on holidays. Even non-romantic holidays seemed to have romantic undertones: both New Years and Christmas parties had traditions of kissing, but does Valentine’s really have a set paradigm of what would be normal?

“Since this is your first, I could help you throw something together.” Porrim suggested. “Around this time, a lot of magazines tend to give tips and ideas for planning something special.”

Although you weren’t really one for extravagant holiday celebrations, maybe it was time to change—especially now that you were dating someone. “I suppose it would not be a terrible idea. He and I have been dating for a few months now, and it only seems natural for the two of us to celebrate such an…intimate occasion.” You considered, thumbing the edge of the book you were reading. “Yes, I believe I would like to do this. Thank you for offering me your assistance.”

“It’s my pleasure, Kanny.”

…

“Let me get this straight; you _actually_ want to watch romcoms with me? Seriously?” Karkat asked skeptically, questioning your motives. “You always fucking complain about how “inaccurate and quixotic” they are; and now you’re asking to see them?”

You cringed a bit. “Well, yes—I do believe that they are impractical and encourage unattainable expectations for romantic dalliances, but I require some guidance in preparing an event that could be considered to be romantic on aesthetic standards.” You correct, a bit irked by the way he rolled his eyes while you spoke.

“What the fuck ever. Sure, let’s do it.” He shrugged. “But if you so much as say one fucking word about how cliché or unlikely you think a scene is, I will personally tear you a new one.

…

Three romantic comedies and exactly two bags of microwave popcorn later, you and Karkat are lying in your makeshift blanket pile, discussing what aspects you could assimilate into your Valentine’s Day celebration.

“Candle-light dinner. You have to go with a cheesy, saccharine sort of thing like that. It’s a fucking classic.” Karkat states resolutely, turning over to face you.

You laugh a bit at the suggestion, partly because of how stereotypical it was, but mostly because you just _knew_ that Cronus would eat that kind of thing up. “That sounds quite effective, actually.” You acknowledge, rising to your feet. “Thank you for your advice, but I must get going. If you wish to discuss this further, feel free to call me.” You smile, as he walks you to the door.

“Yeah, yeah. What the fuck ever.” He says, attempting to sound impassive, yet failing as he cannot contain the small smile from crossing his lips, breaking his façade.

…

When the day actually rolled around, the majority of your evening was spent in preparation. Magazine articles, online searches, and inquiries to friends had given you valuable insight on how to go about preparing for a romantic holiday with your significant other.

Karkat, being somewhat of an expert on romantic endeavors, had informed you that, if you were going to attempt this, it couldn’t be some half-assed ‘whelp, I tried’ sort of situation; no, if you were going to go out, you were going _all out._ You were going to “romance the shit out of Cronus”.

Karkat had acquired the names of Cronus’s favorite foods from Eridan, and you spent over two hours researching how to make them. The set up was a bit cliché, you must admit: dim lights, candles—the whole stereotypical “romantic” scenario portrayed in the media. Despite that, you could feel your heart pumping with excitement as you neared his usual time of arrival.

It was 6:45 p.m. when you sat down at the table, awaiting his return.

By 7:30, you began to wonder if something had come up at work.

Around 8:05, you checked your phone for traffic updates. Holiday visitors tended to clog your quaint city, so it wasn’t unimaginable that he had gotten stuck in the commotion.

9:40 was when your anxiety set in. He should have been home, by now. What if he got into an accident? What if he was injured? What if he had _died_ when riding home on the icy streets to meet you?

When you woke up with a start at 11, your head resting on the table; the fear in your stomach intensified to an overwhelming degree. 4 hours. He should have been home around 4 hours ago.

You lost it at 11:15, curled up on the hard kitchen chair as you cried into your knees, surrounded by cold food, and candles that had long since melted away, leaving hardened puddles of wax forming messy spots on your table—but you, for once, couldn’t find it in you to care.

It was midnight when you heard the door to your apartment creep open, filling you with relief, as you wiped the remnants of tears from your face.

But, at 12:02, when you smelled the sickly scent of alcohol on his clothing, you found yourself crying again—this time out of exasperation, humiliation, and cold, raw anger.

At 12:05, you ran from the building, refusing to turn back as he cried out rotten excuse after rotten excuse.

**_~Cronus~_ **

You fucked up.

Oh, dear _God_ did you fuck up.

You had abandoned your fucking boyfriend, wasted all of his hard work, made him _cry,_ and all on Valentine’s Day.

God, you were a douche bag.

Grabbing your phone, you quickly dialed his number. You knew that a simple ‘I’m so sorry, babe.’ Wouldn’t be enough to save your ass, but it couldn’t hurt, right?

Waiting for the seemingly infinite dial tone to melt away into the sweet voice of your beloved, you nearly had a heart attack as you heard a vibration from behind you.

Stiffening, you turned around—despite the fact that you already knew what you were going to find; you were just buying time to delay the inevitable.

He left his phone behind.

You pissed him off so much that he didn’t even want to hear your apologies.

This was way worse than you had originally thought.

Anxiously, you paced around the living room, waiting. He hates the cold, there’s no way he could be out there for more than an hour. Yeah, you were worrying too much about this! You just had to wait until he simmered down and came home, where you would kiss him better and tell him just how sorry you were for hurting him like that.

…

When the snow started, you didn't think to worry too much.

 _‘He probably went to Porrim's house or to be with his family.’_ you thought. Just to be safe, you pulled up Porrim's number on his phone.

"Kanny, I know that you're probably excited, but it's a little late for you to be awake. Your sleep schedule is important if you want to overcome your insomnia." She scolded.

"I take that to mean he's not with you?" You remark.

"He's not there?" She asked. "Didn't you celebrate? He spent all week planning for tonight."

If you didn't feel guilty enough, that newly acquired piece of information was the crowning award of 'wow, congratulations; you are literally the worst.'

"Something—uh—came up.” You bluffed, your nervous tone betraying your intended nonchalance.

For a moment, the other end of the line is completely silent; you're about to hang up, until you hear an intense whisper.

"What the fuck did you do?" She bit, her harsh tone barely concealing the worry in her voice.

You ran a hand through your hair in exasperation. "I fucked up, okay? Don't worry, I can fix this."

As you hang up, you hear a muffled _'you better_.' before you end the call and begin calling Karkat, instead.

When the dial tone ends, you have to hold the phone away from your ear as he yells through the receiver.

"Kankri. It's midnight on _Valentine's Day_ , for fuck's sakes!" He growls, his voice a bit gruff from sleep.

"Actually, it's Cronus." You sigh, holding the phone back up to your ear. "He hasn't been by?"

"No? Why the fuck would he—…wait. Did you try something, asshole? I swear to God, if you just expected that you could go ahead and do whatever the fuck you wanted because it's Valentine's Day—“

You groaned in irritation. After all if the shit you went through to prove yourself, Kankri's friends and family were _still_ convinced that you were going to hurt him.

Well, at least you didn't hurt him _physically,_ or deliberately.

"I made a fuckin' mistake, okay?! I swear that I didn't try to force him to do anything, I just made him upset!" You shout. "If you're just gonna insult me, then I don't have time for this." You grunt as you end the call, laying your head in your hands.

God, you're fucking stupid.

 _Sure, Meenah! I'd love to go out for Valentine's drinks. Boyfriend? What boyfriend? I'm just a stupid sack of shit who doesn't even consider the idea that his little kitten might have been looking forward to spending the day of romance with his god damned boyfriend!_ You berate yourself mentally for your selfish actions. Thanks to you, Kankri was nowhere to be found, walking around town at past midnight in the snow.

When you finally lifted your head back up, your heart nearly stopped as you realized just how severe the storm outside was. Jumping to your feet, you threw your jacket and boots on as fast as you could, practically flying down the stairs in your haste.

The streets barely seemed safe, but you couldn't fucking stand it; you had to find Kankri before you went out of your mind with worry and guilt.

Everything was eerily quiet; the only sounds were the roar of your engine and the pounding of blood in your ears as you scanned the streets through the thick powder of freshly fallen snow, searching for any sign of that carmine red winter coat.

An hour of fruitless searching brought your distress to an overwhelming level. _What if he got hurt? What if he was injured, or scared, or crying and it was all your fault?_

Kankri's phone began to vibrate in your pants pocket as you were making what felt like your hundredth ride around the town. Pulling to a stop, you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you saw the caller I.D. Kankri must have gone to see his family. They could drive him back, and the two of you could work this out. At this point, just knowing he was unharmed would be enough for you. You didn’t need to force him to forgive you, he would handle that in his own time; but, right now, he could be angry or sad or disappointed or all three combined because he was _safe._

"He came back?" You grinned, feeling the heaviness in your heart melt away.

Karkat, however, simply breathed out an exhausted sigh. "I was hoping that he had come back to you."

Your heart drops, the weight not only returning, but multiplying.

"...and Porrim?" You inquire hopefully, praying that he was out of the frigid February winds.

"No; and I need you to listen carefully." He demands, his voice solid and authoritative. "Kankri ran away a shit ton of times when we were kids—after mom died. But he always, _always_ went to the same fucking place."

"Where?" You ask urgently, desperation taking over as you grip the phone fiercely.

"There's this park on the east side of town; "Skaia", or something. Mom took us there when we were kids." Karkat answered, his voice lowering in volume significantly towards the end.

"Okay, I'll be there in 20 minutes. Thanks, chief." You reply, preparing to end the call just before he calls out:

“Wait—! Just...just fucking call me when you know he's okay." Karkat murmurs almost inaudibly before hanging up, leaving your heart to swell as the end tone sounds through your ears.

...

His bright coat stands out like a beacon amidst the never ending fields of white surrounding him. The dim streetlights just barely illuminate his figure—though, you almost wish they didn't.

His knees are pulled up to his chest as he rests on the lone bench by the street. From the sidewalk, you can easily see that he's trembling. His snow dusted shoulders and light hair shake slightly—and you selfishly hope that it's from the cold, and not from his previous weeping.

You slink up behind him, wrapping your arms around his body.

"It's freezing out, baby. Let's get you back home, okay?" You suggest, pressing a chaste kiss to the snow covered crown of his head.

"Leave me alone." He half sobs; pushing your head away as he pointedly refuses to look at you.

"Kan, you'll get sick out here like this. Just come home; I'll make you some tea, draw you a hot bath, and then you can go to bed, and I promise that I won't bug ya for the rest of the night." You bribe, moving to kneel in front of him as you lay your hands on his own.

“I don’t even want to see you, right now. Just leave me here.” He whispered, pulling his legs tighter against himself.

You groan in frustration, directed more towards yourself than to him. “You know I can’t do that, dove.” You purr affectionately. “Listen, I know I made some shitty decisions tonight, but leaving you here would be the worst one. You’re comin’ home with me, one way or another.” You warn.

“Cronus. Fuck. Off.” He spits venomously, his words heavy despite the tears.

There’s no way in hell that you’re just going to leave him here to freeze to death because of your inconsiderate behavior. Making a show out of your getting up, you crack your joints and sigh audibly. “Fine, then. I’ll see ya later.” You lie; pretending to leave him behind as you go and start up your motorcycle. Once he relaxes, you put the other helmet under your arm and stalk up behind him. Quickly, you shove the helmet onto his head, and lift him up as he struggles to process the turn of events. You sit him on the seat behind you before he can protest, and begin riding back to your apartment, Kankri begrudgingly holding on to you from behind.

The moment you arrive, he jumps off of the bike and throws his helmet at you, hitting you right in the stomach as he storms inside the building. Being quicker on your feet, you reach the apartment first from the staircase opposite the one he took, and you open the door as you usher him inside, not wanting to run the risk of losing him again. He brushes roughly past you, slamming into you with his shoulder as he stomps inside and throws himself down on the couch.

“Kankri? Do you wanna talk about tonight?” You ask cautiously, noticing the way that his fists tighten on the pillow he is covering his face with. “If you wanna yell at me, or somethin’, then you might as well. It sure beats you havin’ all this pent up frustration.”

Bracing yourself for the brunt of his anger, you’re surprised when he says nothing. He curls up on his side, instead; hugging the pillow tight to his body.

“Baby? You gonna be okay?” You ask, his sudden change in disposition worrying you.

“Why didn’t you just leave me out there? Being here just makes me remember what a fool I was for getting my hopes up for such a futile cause.” He murmurs, shoving his face into the pillow.

“No, don’t say that! I’m the one who ruined this. I had to bring you here. It isn’t safe out in this storm.” You assure, kneeling down in front of him, only to have him turn his body away from you. “Can’t we talk about this?

“I don’t want to.” He replies, his voice taking on an edge of petulance. “You don’t even care about me.” He chokes out, curling up as tight as he can as he begins to tremble again.

The sight of him so broken stabs at your heart; of _course_ you care about him! You may have ruined his plans, but you were trying your best to fix this shit.

“Babe, I care about you more than anyo—“ You start, only to be cut off as a pillow smacks you in the face.

“Don’t even lie to me, Cronus Ampora!” He growls, his eyes suddenly smoldering with a mixture of hurt, anger, and betrayal. “If you _actually_ did care about me, then you wouldn’t _do_ things like this!”

“Do you know how worried I was about you?!” You shout. “I drove through this town 6 times over, going completely out of my mind with guilt!”

“Do you have any idea how worried _I_ was about _you_?!” He screeches, his eyes softening again as the room goes silent. He shifts uncomfortably before continuing. “I waited for you for 5 hours, Cronus. I sat at the kitchen table, forced to watch as time slowly ticked by while I had no idea whether you were dead or alive.”

“Baby—“

“No. Let me finish.” He continues, raising a tremulous hand to scrub at his eyes. “Tonight wasn’t just about dinners and romance. Tonight was the night that I was going to tell you that…” He pauses, taking a deep breath and fidgeting with the edge of his sweater. “That I’m in love with you. For _hours_ I sat here, worrying that I might have lost you and would never get the chance.” He whispers, refusing to meet your eyes as he lowers himself back down onto the couch.

Your breath hitches, your heart skipping a beat.

_Love._

Slowly, you reach forward, wrapping him up in your arms. This time, he doesn’t make any attempt to turn away, instead placing his head in the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around your neck.

“I love you, too, Kankri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the next chapter is going to involve the sex.  
> However, i have written out two different scenarios for their first time, which are as follows:  
> 1- Heated romance where Kankri actually instigates some things and Cronus is super into it because holy hot, what the fuck, Kankri  
> 2- Fumbling virgin sex, where they have no clue about what they should do but they make it work because love.
> 
> If you have a preference, leave a comment, or you can message me at: http://real-or-vantasy.tumblr.com/ask


	8. "Broken" doesn't always imply something bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the time that we're born, we follow rules.   
> Our parents warn us of dangers to keep us safe; our teachers use them to keep us in line.  
> You don't know the rules for this, though.  
> You don't remember exactly who, or exactly when; but you were once told that rules were meant to be broken.  
> And maybe this rule is better off that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you know how fuckin hard writing porn is when youre a 16 year old virgin who hasn't even gotten their first fucking kiss yet.
> 
> heres a hint: rEALLY FUCKING HARD AND ALSO KIND OF CONFUSING I AM OUt goOD BYE
> 
> Side notes:   
> A-This chapter is actually quite long. 4,999 words, to be precise.   
> B-I had a pretty split vote percentage for both options, so i went with the second one for now, and will add a chapter for the first option in a little bit. Sorry.

During winter, snow tended to cloak the streetlights; the dim light that they cast was nearly snuffed out, and it nearly impossible to see much past the overpowering darkness. This was the time of the night (morning?) that you both loved, and hated. Cronus had the luxury of being able to sleep no matter the conditions at hand, and he would be passed out within thirty minutes of getting into bed with you. You, however, had no such luxury, and nearly every night was spent reading novel after novel beside him.

Honestly, you did appreciate having Cronus beside you on your sleepless nights. You didn’t realize how lonely you were living here until he came into your life. When he’s not in bed with you, there will be an even greater chance of you losing sleep. Without him, something is missing, and you can’t ignore it. Just having him next to you, feeling his soft breath as he holds you close, his icy feet on your legs as he adjusts positions in the night, and the way he softly murmurs when he’s dreaming—all of these things ground you; they remind you that you’re alive, and so is he. It’s easy to tell that he needs to have you near him, too. When he’s deep in sleep, sometimes he’ll reach for you. When he does, he won’t really calm down until he’s holding on to you, and he’ll become restless. If he reaches out for you, as soon as you grab on to his hand, he’s subdued—a bit like a child to a comfort object.

This morning is no different. You’ve long since stopped staring at the clock, as it only adds to your anxiety as you watch the hours ticking by, leaving you sleepless. He’s holding your hand, as usual, and he’s mumbling in his sleep. The novel you were reading has long since become boring, and you wouldn’t even think about getting out of bed: any movement could wake Cronus, and you aren’t very enthusiastic about touching the frigid wooden floor any time soon. Instead, you find yourself focusing on Cronus’s face. Interestingly enough, it isn’t uncommon for Cronus to smile in his sleep, and it comforts you a great deal—the fact that he’s at peace. You can’t help but place a small kiss on his forehead, watching his smile widen just a bit. As you are pulling back, he says your name quietly, and you almost wonder if you’d woken him.

Thankfully, his expression remains the same, sans the soft blush covering his cheeks.

“Yes, Cronus; I’m here.” You whisper back, more for yourself than him.

Repeating your name, he rolls over and wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck. Well, fuck. It’s a good thing that you weren’t planning on getting up, anyways. You’re a little worried, though. His skin feels almost _too_ warm, and his hands are a bit clammy. Could he have a fever?

Carefully, you pull your arm away to open the drawer on the bedside table. You keep random health supplies here for convenience, and it wouldn’t be unthinkable that you had a thermometer in there, somewhere.

You’re searching blindly, and Cronus’s grip on you tightens, making it almost difficult to breathe. His face is pressed so close to you that you can feel the way his warm breath hits your skin, and it makes you shiver.

“So hot…” He mutters against your skin, and the feeling makes your hair stand on end. This is probably a fever, you conclude, as your hand continues searching the drawer beside you. If he’d let go of you just a _bit._

Instead, he curls into you, lacing your legs with his own. His skin is usually so cold, but, now, it feels almost burning against your own.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, leaning into you, and practically panting in your ear.

“Shhh. I know, love. It’ll get better, I promise.” You soothe, laying another soft kiss to his temple. You had a bit of experience with taking care of illnesses from when you used to watch over Karkat, but even then Grandma Maryam would usually come over to help you. This is so much different, though. Would it be better to just wake him now, or should you wait however long it would take for him to wake up on his own? The former seemed like the better option what with the burning hot vice-grip he had on you.

“Cronus, you need to wake u—!” You were cut off as he curled further into you, your bodies pressed together as tightly as possible. “Cronus, you—”

Your train of thought stops abruptly, and you can’t contain the small gasp that bubbles from your lips. Yeah. Yeah, there was definitely something pressed up against your thigh.

Staring down in horror, you realize just what a compromising position you’re in. Uh, wow. Yeah, there was no way that he didn’t have a boner. And there was no way that said boner was not, currently, pressed against your leg. Fun.

“Fuck, Kannn…” He moans as he rocks his hips against you. Oh my god. Why this. Of all the times for him to be fantasizing about you, he just _had_ to be completely pressed against your body as he basically dry-humped you. Yeah, there was pretty much no way to pretend that this was a thing that wasn’t happening.

Beyond the burning humiliation, you couldn’t say that you weren’t a little bit surprised. From the start of the relationship, the two of you had agreed to preserve your vow, and you didn’t really consider the fact that he still thought of breaking it. It didn’t really occur to you—the fact that he had probably been lusting after your body. Has this happened before? Did this happen a lot?

With that last thought, you couldn’t stop the feeling of electricity that shot through your spine. Would breaking your vow really be that unacceptable? Who would care—you’re a grown adult who’s capable of making his own decisions. Your vow was what you knew, and it was safe; but maybe you were getting bored of ‘safety’? Cronus made you feel safe, too; and there’s a great difference between his safety, and the ‘safety’ of your mundane existence. Maybe…maybe this could happen…

But, not right fucking now.

“Cronus, wake up.” You command, your voice wavering a little too much for your tastes.

“wha—” he groans softly, leaning back to look at your face, which you’re sure is absolutely flushed. You watch his expression as he becomes aware of the situation, and you almost want to laugh when he gasps sharply and instantly releases you, scrambling backwards to his side of the bed.

“Fuck—oh _shit_! I’m! Kankri, I— _fuck_!” He stammered, staring at you with eyes wide in mortification. “I didn’t—that wasn’t! _I’m so fucking sorry_!” He cries as he jumps out of bed and runs from the room.

…

He doesn’t return to bed, and he avoids you at all costs for the rest of the day. But, it’s not exactly easy to avoid someone in an apartment with 3 rooms, one of which belonging to the exact person you’re trying to avoid. So, inevitably, the two of you bump into each other after about 2 days. Literally. Like, you actually walk straight into his chest when he was trying to open the front door.

“Oh, h-hey, Kan!” He laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact. “Sorry about that, I—uh, didn’t expect you to be there.”

This is getting out of hand; this isn’t even _that_ big of a deal.

Pushing him back into the apartment with you, you stare up at him. “Cronus. Look at me.” You demand, brushing off your initial discomfort. “I am growing tired of this recent avoidance.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing. I mean, what am I? Some hormone-crazed 15 year old?”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t something you did intentionally. And it’s not like anything actually happened, so shouldn’t it be fine? I mean, you’re always so under control.” You start, smiling awkwardly at him.

He smiles back, a little less ashamedly now. “Thanks. You fuckin’ rock, baby.”

Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you connect your lips with his softly, wrapping your arms around his neck for better balance. He kisses you back eagerly, running his hands down your hips. After a while, though, balancing on the tips of your toes becomes a bit painful, and you pull away from the kiss as you push your hands against his shoulders.

“Lift me up.”

He complies, resting your back against the door as he balances your body on his hips. From the new angle, you’re able to deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth with your tongue. Cronus makes a small noise of appreciation, biting at your bottom lip. It’s weird, though. You’ve kissed him like this a thousand times, but why does this time feel different?

Cronus must sense something is wrong, because he pulls back. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, babe? I don’t want what happened the other day to make you feel like you need to force yourself to do anythin’, okay?” He reminds you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

Strangely, you don’t feel like you’re forcing yourself at all. This is different because you want it to be different, this time.

“What if I told you that I was ready to continue?” You whisper, eyes half lidded, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears as you watch his eyes widen.

Cronus falters, and the hand that had been stroking your face stills instantly as he stares in disbelief, as if he didn’t believe that he had heard you correctly.

“Are you implying what I think you're implying?” He asks cautiously. “If you’re only doing this out of guilt, or feeling like you’re obligated to please me, then this can’t happen.”

“Does _this_ look like I’m not serious?” You reply, a bit uncertainly; punctuating your sentence by grinding your hips down onto his, making his breath hitch in his throat.

He gasps lightly, staring at you in confusion. “I..uh—I just don’t think that’s the answer that you wanna give, babe.” He chuckles nervously.

You roll your eyes a bit at the other’s persistence, judging by the way you were acting, isn’t it obvious that you’re being serious about  all of this shit? “Cronus, do you _honestly_ believe that I’m still holding on to my vow at this point?” You ask, placing your head on his shoulder as you whisper in his ear, voice somewhat tremulous as you attempt to hide your flushed face. “Just shut up and do me, already.”

The way that Cronus grips your hips is tight—borderline painful—as he pulls you against himself and practically runs to your shared bedroom. He lays you down on the mattress as he pulls himself forward, placing his hands on either side of your head.

“Before anything happens, I need you to promise me somethin', sweetheart.” He paused, looking away for a moment as he ran his tongue over his chapped lips.

“Yes, anything.” You reply, leaning up and placing a kiss on his nose.

“If I do _anything_ , overstep _one_ fucking boundary and even make you remotely uncomfortable, you have to promise you'll tell me right away.” He pleaded, his deep, ocean eyes coming to rest on your own. “I don't know what I would do if something hurt or scared you, and you were too nervous to tell me to stop.”

Comforted by his concern, you smile softly. “I promise. Now, please; just get on with it. I am worked up and it is fairly obvious from that *ahem* _strain_ in the front of your pants that you are just as eager as I am.” You coo, motioning to Cronus’s lower half—your face breaking into a smug grin as he looks down somewhat self-consciously.

“How do you want to go about this?” He asks, sounding almost as anxious as you feel, and making your face suffuse in colour.

You stutter, overcome by lack of sexual experience.  “I honestly don't know; just do whatever you think would be best!” You exclaim, attempting to hide your face behind your hands.

“Shh, it's okay. I'll take care of you; don't worry.” He purrs, leaning down to suck at your neck.

 

His cold hands are a shock against your skin as he begins pushing up your sweater, prompting a soft gasp of surprise from you.  He leans down a bit, abandoning your neck in favor of peppering a line of kisses against your chest.

“A little help here, Kan?” He asks as he pushes up your sweater even more. You fumble with the fabric, shaking fingers impairing your movements.

As you pull it over your head, he becomes a little more courageous, biting and sucking at your clavicle. He's so different, like this. Instead of his usual languid movements, he's rushing, drinking you in with every touch of his lips and fingertips. He's mapping out your body, and, for once, you don't feel insecure. You trust him. You trust him to not laugh at you, to stay here, to _care._ It's almost surprising, honestly.

Your choke on a breath when you feel his hands on the waistband if your pants, his fingers hooked between the fabric and your skin. He's glancing up at you—an inquiry of how far you were willing to take this. Softly, almost imperceptibly, you nod, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm ready, love.”

He strips away your pants, lifting you up to remove the article entirely. In response, you sit up, grabbing his shirt and lifting it off of his body.

In the grey light, you are barely able to make out the tattoos that ran across Cronus’s shoulders, back, and arms; you had never really been too interested in tattoos, but when it came to Cronus’s, you loved looking at them—tracing them with your fingers, and, overall, just trying to imagine the meaning behind each one. Despite the fact that Cronus was careless, at times, he had a thing for symbolism, and everything he ever did was deliberate—especially the curving lines and muted colours that danced upon his skin. Everything he was, is, or aspired to be was permanently marked on his skin, serving as inspiration, a reminder, and an expression.

You were amazed by Cronus’s body whenever you saw it. To you, Cronus is equivalent to the bronze Gods of Olympus—a marble sculpture fit for a museum—and you almost feel dizzy thinking that he’s _real_ and he’s here for _you_.

Cronus laughs softly when he notices you staring, and he gently pulls you into his lap.

“You're so adorable, babe.” He hums as he nuzzles his face in your messy auburn hair.

From this position, you can feel the pressure straining against Cronus’s pants, and it’s almost amazing to realize that _you_ did that—that he's like that because of someone like you. Mimicking his movements, you latch your fingers at the top of his pants, hesitating. He rubs your thighs in encouragement, allowing you to pull the article away.

After removing Cronus’s pants, however, you still don’t have much of an idea of what to do. Were you supposed to take of Cronus’s boxers, now? Were you supposed to wait for Cronus to give instructions? Was _he_ supposed to take off _your_ boxers?

You give Cronus a desperate ‘ _what the fuck do I do, now?_ ’ sort of look as he toyed absently with your hair. Cronus simply laughed. “Do whatever feels right to you; you’re in control, baby.”

If anything, you only became more confused—being in control. Your hands are still shaking as you pull his boxers off of his legs, leaving him exposed before you as your mind suddenly started rushing.

_You were doing this. You, Kankri Vantas, son of a preacher, English major, 5'3 118 pound Kankri Vantas was about to have sexual intercourse with Cronus Ampora, the handsome, fit musician who belongs with models and princes but chose to be with you instead._

Cronus lifts his hands, stopping abruptly before actually touching your skin. His eyes are wide with uncertainty as he looks up at you, biting his lip a bit. “Can I...?”

You nod, tensing a bit as his hands reach your sides. Gently, he hooks his thumbs in the elastic of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your thighs. Once he has you completely undressed, however, he just stares at you for a while. Not too long, but long enough for you to become extremely uncomfortable. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His eyes flicker to your face, his lips just barely parted as he regards you. “You’re…I just...” He stops, running a hand down your side lightly. “You’re beautiful.” He whispers, voice full of awe.

Your heart swells a little at that, and you pull him close to you, resting your head on his chest as he holds you to him. His heart is pounding behind his ribs, and it almost makes you sleepy. You didn’t really expect this.

Any of this.

The first time that you had ever heard his heartbeat was the day that you slept in his bed with him; since then, you’d heard it a thousand times—but, now, completely nude and on his lap, it feels like the first time.  It’s an indescribable feeling—skin against skin; your breath mingling with his as you felt the reality of his body against your own.

You've been close before, but not like this. Not close enough to realize what being so enraptured by his existence feels like.

His scent is the nearly violet, overwhelming blue of his eyes in the morning. It's the endearing waver in his pronunciation of 'v's and 'w's that reminds you of the obfuscated roar of waves underwater. His scent is the smell of his cigarettes and pomade—it’s the feeling of frigid hands, the fingers calloused from playing guitar, and the sparks of electricity they leave as he trails them across your bare skin.

You love everything about Cronus Ampora in a way that you didn't know it was possible to love.

And you're going to tell him a million times.

You're going to tell him until your voice is hoarse and your throat dries out and even a million more times after that.

He kisses the top of your head as he pulls back a bit. “Do you still want to do this?”

You nod, kissing his jaw, but you let out the most pathetic whine you ever have as he rises from the bed and to his feet, leaving you completely alone on the bed, cold with his absence.

“Shh, baby. You’re okay, you’re okay.” He reassures you, but continues moving, which doesn’t do much to quell the sudden loneliness you feel. “I’ve gotta get something from my room. I’ll be back in a sec; wait right here.” He orders as he practically runs from the room.

You lay back on the bed. Usually, patience is your strongpoint, but, right now, as you sit in a dark room extremely aroused and incredibly alone and told to _wait_ , you feel like a crabby child who just isn’t getting their way. If you weren’t as desperate as you were now, you’d probably feel ashamed in yourself.

But you don’t fucking care. _Where the fuck is Cronus._

 

“’Kay, I’m back.” He breathes as he enters the doorway, his form silhouetted by the light from the hallway. You can’t see very well, but he looks to be…holding something? A bottle? What is that?

“Lay back on the bed.” He commands, flipping the lid of the bottle open and coating his fingers.

“Cronus, please excuse my ignorance when I say this, but what _is_ that?” You ask, looking at him curiously. The look he gives you is nothing short of perplexed, one brow lifted, as if he were trying to figure out whether or not you had been joking.

“Uh, lube? Obviously.” He snorts, entertained by your confusion. “I really ain't the “bite the pillow, I'm going in dry” type—especially not when I'm trying to avoid hurtin you at all costs.” He smiles, leaning over your body.

“Thank you, for that. I have heard of water based sexual lubricant but what do you—!”You choke on your words, letting out a small squeak of discomfort as you feel a long finger enter you, probing about experimentally.

“Sorry, shoulda warned you that it might pinch a bit, huh?” He apologizes, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna have to add another one in a minute, though, so just sit tight.”

 _That’s easier to say when you don’t have someone’s finger inside of you_. You think, bitterly. It feels too weird, and you can’t help but squirm a bit. Was it going to be like this the whole time?

When he adds the second in, you cringe, but you don't feel as uncomfortable as you did the first time. He's moving them inside you, searching for something. Apparently, he finds it, because _oh._

You let out an obscenely loud moan, much to your chagrin, and you clap a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“You like that, don't you?”

You nod weakly in response, your skin still prickling with embarrassment.

“Will you... Do that again?” You ask; afraid that you might moan even louder this time, but also wanting it to happen again because _yes yes oh dear god fucking yes_.

“Anything for you, dove.” He chuckles, adding the third finger as he stretches you.

A few minutes pass before he withdraws his fingers, and you whine a bit at the loss of contact. He sets to work lubing himself up, and it would be a lie to say that you weren’t growing even more anxious—something you didn’t actually think was possible. This is really happening, isn’t it? Things aren’t going to be the same after this. 4 months ago, you didn’t even know him, but, right now, you can’t imagine a life without him. It’s weird to think about—the fact that he did in 4 months what nobody else had been able to do for 22 _years_.

But, Cronus wasn’t just anybody, and he would never be, after tonight.

“Baby? This is going to hurt, and I’m real sorry.” He whispers, lifting your hips a bit. “When it hurts, I want you to squeeze my hand as hard as you want. If you want to stop at any point, _tell_ me, and I will, okay?” He reiterates, sounding concerned as he holds your hand, entwining your fingers with his own.

“Yes. I promise.” You reply, your voice betraying your intended confidence.

Slowly, Cronus repositions your hips before pushing in a bit, and you choke on a strangled cry. He wasn’t fucking around when he said it was going to hurt _._ Squeezing his hand as hard as you can, you try not to whimper as it stretches you. Beyond the pain, you can hear him speaking frantically to you.

“Fuck, babe, are you okay? Do you want me to stop? We can fucking stop, okay? Please, please don’t cry, Kankri!” He whines as he moves over you, placing soft kisses at your neck and jaw.

Crying? Who the fuck is crying—oh. You’re crying? When did that happen?

You sob softly, biting your lip a bit. “No—don’t. Don’t stop. Keep going.” You breathe, cringing a bit when you note the worry on his face.

Shakily, he complies, pushing further into you. Luckily, you’re beginning to adjust to the foreign feeling, and, judging by the gruff moan he lets out, he’s enjoying this. “Y-you can move n-now.” You stutter, hating how your voice cracks on the words. You’re still crying, but the sobs are slowly ebbing away, the saltwater trails drying on your flushed skin.

He establishes a steady pace, still going as gently as possible. It's easy to see that he's using every ounce of willpower he has to hold back, despite the fact that the pain is beginning to fade.

“You can—you c-can go faster.” You groan, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“I don't wanna hurt you.”

“It's f-fine, I want you to enjoy this, too. I can t-take it, trust me.” You manage to say, still feeling a bit woozy as you stutter out your words.

Little by little, he does speed up. His thrusts become less controlled and more natural as he gives into the sensation, your name tumbling from his lips with each thrust. “Wait, lemme try something...” He says, pulling you forward, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pushes your upper body into the mattress. It's a bit uncomfortable, and you're nearly squirming, but all coherent thought is lost as he thrusts back I'm and hits that spot inside of you. Your body shudders violently at the feeling, stabs of ecstasy scattering throughout your body as stars flutter behind your eyelids.

By this point, your mouth is spilling unintelligible words, only able to articulate a few moans of ‘Cronus’ and ‘oh my god’. Cronus isn’t faring much better in terms of coherency, but he keeps talking nonetheless; mumbling into your ear, pushing your legs up to your chest as he continues biting and sucking at your neck.

“You’re g-going to leave marks.” You whine, nervously. You may wear turtlenecks, but you would never live this down if Karkat or Porrim or—god forbid—your _father_ caught a glimpse of them.

He doesn’t relent, though. “I wanna see them, later.” He growls into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Need to know this happened.” He continues, biting just the slightest bit harder.

Your head is reeling with the overstimulation; this is all too much, too fast. There’s a pressure building up inside of you, and you know that you’re not going to last much longer.

“Cronus, I—can’t! This is…I’m close!”

“Yes—oh, _fuck_.” He groans, his voice gruff with exertion. “Come for me, baby.” He whispers in your ear, and you lose it.

You moan embarrassingly loud when you come, hips twitching as your body trembles. Cronus isn’t far off, gripping your hips almost hard enough to bruise—not that you actually noticed through the haze of orgasm that had crashed over you. He thrusts a few last times, riding out his own orgasm, before he pulls out and collapses beside you.

“Holy shit, babe…” Cronus groans quietly, pulling you against him. “That was perfect. You’re fucking perfect.” He smiled lazily, kissing your forehead.

You can hardly find it in you to answer, your mouth barely able to form words from your exhaustion. Nodding weakly in response, you grab the blankets and pull them over the both of you, cuddling against his chest.

“Tired.” You croak closing your eyes and letting his arms envelop you as you give in to the heavy exhaustion of post-coital bliss.

 ** _~BONUS~_** (I think you should read this because I told you to and I am in charge shutyourmouth)

You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed. Fuck last night. Your stupid goddam tool boyfriend left deep hickeys across your neck, and it’s a miracle that nobody has said anything—they’re definitely visible in the area not covered by your sweater. You can’t keep your bag on, because it falls over your shoulder and rubs against the bruises on your hips. Fucking Cronus. And, most of all, your ass hurts a ridiculous amount. This is the shit that nobody warns you about. The media always makes sex seem so fantastic (it kinda is tho) but they never think to tell you that you’ll feel like trash in the morning. At least he’ll be here in a few minutes to get you, and then you can just curl up in bed for the rest of the day, right? Yeah, everything’s fine.

“Kanny, are you okay?”

Fuck

“You’re walking pretty abnormally. Did you slip on the ice when you were leaving?”

_Fuck._

“Here, if you can’t even hold your bag, I should just take you home so we can make sure you’re okay.”

**_FUCK._ **

“It’s fine!” You squeak, grimacing as you pull your bag over your hip again. “I am an adult, Porrim. I believe that I can handle such trivial matters.”

“Kanny, I’m just trying to help you.” She sighs, bringing her hand up to rub the hair from your face. “You never let me help you. Why can’t you just—Kankri, what the fuck is that.”

If you could run right now, you would be three states away.

“Is that a—! KANKRI VANTAS!” She shouts as she pulls down your collar to reveal a spattering of other marks.

The sound of a motorcycle approaching has you frozen in your tracks. _fuckfucknotnowCronusno_ —

“Ey, Kan!” Cronus grins as he comes to a halt a few feet away from where you and Porrim were standing. “Porrim! Long time, no see.”

Porrim is giving him the most intense glare you’ve ever seen. Fuck past you for deciding to get out of bed.

From behind Porrim’s back, you start mouthing words at Cronus frantically. _Cronus, get the fuck out. She knows. She found out and she’s pissed and you need to GO.”_

He doesn’t even have the time to react before Porrim is upon him, her hand fisted in the front of his shirt as she glares daggers at him.

“I’m watching you.” She growls before storming off, still glaring as she gives you a hug and continues on her way home, brushing her shoulder against his roughly as she passes.

Cronus stares in shock for a moment, mouth agape.

“All of your friends are fucking scary.” He breathes out as he hands you your helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i"M LAUGHING REALLY HARD IM NEVER RE-READING THIS nO GOODBYE


	9. It's unthinkable until it is your reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is important: it keeps you going in times of despair.  
> Sometimes, though, hope can be your downfall.  
> You should have expected this to happen. You should have expected that he would only hurt the two of you.  
> Being hopeful is sometimes the most damaging of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for a few homophobic slurs (Sorry!)

It would be an understatement to say that you had been only a little surprised when Cronus suddenly went out and bought you the entire series of a book that you loved. It wasn’t that he was exceptionally inconsiderate—because he wasn’t; more so, it was because of the _look_ on his face when he gave them to you. He looked nervous, almost guilty. It was so different from his usual grin—as if he was keeping something from you.

He continued like this for a week: asking to help out around the house, making the bed, trying to help you make dinner, (to the best of his ability) and so forth. When he finally dropped the ass-kissing act, your heart nearly flipped with worry when he laid a hand on your shoulder, gingerly moving to sit beside you on the couch.

“Hey, Kitten? I have a little… _proposition_ for ya.”

If all of this assistance had been some odd, roundabout way of trying to persuade you to satisfy some weird kink of his, you were going to flip the fuck out.

"Yes, Cronus?" You replied, feigning ignorance regarding his sudden change in disposition in the past week.

"You know about my family, right? How I left, and all that shit?" He asks, the uncomfortable tone of his voice seeming almost foreign to your ears.

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Eridan, he—uh, told my dad that I was datin' someone, and he called me up to see if we'd come over for dinner." He explained nervously, reaching down to brush the hair from your eyes as he glanced at you awkwardly.

"That sounds quite nice, actually." You smile, leaning into his soothing ministrations. "If you do not mind my asking, why were you acting so strangely about this? I would have said yes, regardless—although, your recent kindness did not go unappreciated."

Cronus, however, bit his lip. "It's not that easy, babe. My dad is fuckin' intense."

"How do you mean?" You inquire, raising a brow.

"He's really homophobic—I just don't want him gettin’ too crazy with you." He muttered protectively, cupping your face with one hand as you turned to face him. "I just think that _maybe,_ after he meets you and sees how happy we are, he'll learn to accept us, and then Eridan can come out."

You smile softly, placing a kiss on his cheek. "That is very admirable of you, and I would be more than willing to help." You pause, your mind wandering for a brief moment as you consider the idea. "Maybe we could do the same for my father. He believes that homosexuality is a sin, which worries me not only for myself, but for Karkat, who is doing a terrible job of hiding his orientation if that 'Dave' boy he always seems to be talking about is any indication."

Cronus sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leans back on the couch.

"God, we're all so fucking gay."

...

The two of you spend nearly three hours in preparation for your visit. You pressed both of your clothing, Cronus left work an hour early...

...and you had leisurely shower sex, because "not only are you gettin' laid, but you were easing your nerves, and saving water, like good, _sensible_ adults." Or, so Cronus said.

You were more than impressed when you arrived at the Ampora household. Although it wasn't as large as the Peixes' mansion on the outskirts of town, it was pretty damn close. Cronus was very secretive about his familial matters, so you had not really known what to expect; but you hadn't really considered the idea that he might have come from an exceptionally wealthy family. The inside was even more extravagant than the outside, and you felt yourself in awe of the elegance of it all.

The dining room was fairly large, the table alone was meant to seat at least 12 people comfortably. Deep violet walls decorated with a number of seaside landscapes created a desolate sort of atmosphere, and everything seemed to carry the faintest scent of lavender.

All in all, the Cronus that you knew seemed almost out of place. It makes sense that he was so eager to leave and find himself.

His father stood in the center of the room, arms crossed in front of his body, as though he were in a perpetual state of annoyance. One thing that you did know about his father was that he was fairly strict. Dunixi had been a prominent naval commander in his youth, and he definitely retained both the poise of a soldier, as well as that of an aristocrat. He may have been growing grey with age, light lines tugging at his eyes and seemingly permanent glower, but he exuded this air of weathered sagacity that just demanded respect.

"Cronus." His father acknowledged with a tone of disinterest.

"Pops." Cronus replied, earning a hardly concealed scowl from the other.

"I see you haven't changed." His father observed, speaking through slightly gritted teeth.

"You look a lot older; should I call you 'gramps' now?" Cronus retorted, and the tension between them was so thick, that you thought you might drown, the breath catching in your throat.

"Are you gonna continue being a piece of shit, or are ya' gonna introduce me to this little lady?" His father began, turning his judgmental eyes to you.

Wait...Did he just say 'little _lady_ '?

You stared at Cronus, whose mouth was pressed into a thin line—his jaw tight.

"Dad, this is Kankri."

His father continued staring at you, the look in his eyes burning your skin.

"...are ya' really dating my son? Or, are you just some dyke he's usin' for appearances?" He asked, his voice straightforwardly malicious.

"Kan is _not_ a 'dyke'." Cronus bit out. "I can guarantee that."

You couldn't do much but state at Cronus incredulously. Why was he just going along with this? Wasn't the whole point of this meeting to attempt and persuade his father to acceptance? Was he embarrassed? Was he trying to protect you?

Dunixi did not relent. Instead, he gave you another once over, clicking his tongue in distaste. "Not a lot of meat on your bones, is there?" He scoffed, and, although you supposed you weren't supposed to have an effeminate figure, his rudeness made your blood boil with indignation. "With that curve-less body and flat chest of yours, you look like a young boy, don't ya'?"

Cronus's fists tightened, his knuckles whitening.” Are you done insulting us? Or are we not planning on eating, tonight?"

...

Dinner was beautifully prepared—you almost felt guilty eating it. Your family had never really indulged in what was unnecessary, and it was as if the Amporas were part of another spectrum entirely.

Yet, however wonderful the dinner was, it could not distract from the intense silence, as Cronus and his father continued casting one another contemptuous glares every now and again.

As dinner drew to an end, you found Dunixi staring at you, once more—his face contorted into a somewhat unnerving grin.

"He tell you about how he dropped outta school at 16?" He smirks, glowering at Cronus a bit.

Although you were aware of the fact that he had not finished school, you had assumed that he had meant college. As you chance a look at Cronus, he's staring at his hands, shame and embarrassment painting his face.

You clear your throat, returning Dunixi's glare. "Although I had not been informed of this, I simply do not care." You state, grabbing Cronus's hand beneath the table. "If you truly love someone, what happened in their past is irrelevant. Actions do not determine the worth of a human being, their character does; and Cronus is wonderful."

Cronus smiles at you lovingly, and you squeeze his hand even harder.

Dunixi narrow's his eyes at the two of you, disappointed by the fact that he had not been able to provoke you. "Girlie, to be honest with ya', you're too good to spend time with my _loser_ son." He sneers. "He's been destined to fail since the beginning. All he'll do is drag you down with him—he's a _disease._ "

Cronus jumps up, his chair scraping across the floor as it falls over. "Fuck you! Why won't you just let me be happy for once in my goddam life?!" He fumed, slamming his palms down on the table with enough force to rattle the dishes.

"'Happy'?" Dunixi snorts, taking sick enjoyment from Cronus's distress. "You think the bitch'll be happy when ya' lose your job and end up freeloadin' off a' her?"

"I won't let anything happen to him!" Cronus shouts, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth as the room fell into a deadly silence.

"...did you just say 'him'?"

Cronus swallows audibly, casting you a quick, nervous glance. "...yes. Kankri is a guy, and I'm head-over-heels in love with him; so you need to learn to accept this if we're gonna talk anymore." Cronus admits, pulling you up to hold you close.

Dunixi's face is unreadable as he regards the two of you, and Cronus pulls you closer in apprehension. "Son. Come over here." He commands, his back completely rigid as he stares at you.

Reluctantly, Cronus releases you, placing a soft kiss onto your head before he approached his father. "What do you wa—" _crack._

The crash of skin meeting bone resounds through the room, making you cringe. Blood flows through Cronus's hands where he's cupping his face; the viscous red dripping onto the carpet and beginning to stain his shirt. You screw your eyes shut, doing all that you can to maintain consciousness at the nauseating sight.

"Get the fuck outta here! You may be my kid, but I never wanna see your goddam face again, you disgusting faggot." Dunixi snarls, his fist splattered with Cronus's blood from the force of the impact.

You had expected Cronus to flip the fuck out, and it was terribly unsettling  as he remains silent, holding onto his nose and staring into the face of his father—his attacker—for a minute or so.

"You know what; I don't have time for this manipulative bullshit. I love Kankri, and I don't need your acceptance for us to be happy together. At this point, I'm glad to get him outta here and as far away as possible from you, you bigoted piece of shit." Cronus spat venomously as he grasped your hand in his own, pulling you out of the room and abandoning his father in stunned silence.

He breezes past Eridan's barrage of questions as the two of you practically run out of the house. The air outside is freezing, and the sky feels more like the desolate bottom of the ocean than the familiar blanket of stars you had always loved. Cronus is breaking fast. He looks about ready to scream, his face bloodied and his eyes full of betrayal.

"Cronus, darling? I understand that you are in a state of emotional turmoil at the moment, but it is imperative that we visit the hospital— your nose is likely broken, and it will only worsen if we continue on like this." You soothe, laying your hands on both of your arms as you try to get his attention. He refuses to respond, staring at the house with an expression of both deep hatred, and heartbreak.

After a few minutes, he speaks up, his voice sharp, yet tremulous. "I shoulda’ fucking known." He growls. "I must be the stupidest fucker to walk the earth if I thought that he'd even make an _attempt_ to accept me for once in my life." He laughs bitterly, turning down to look at you with the most pained expression you'd ever seen.

You desperately wanted to reply—to connect, but you couldn't. When you would eventually tell your father about yourself, you know that he will be disappointed in you, but he would never even dream of physically harming you. It's impossible to imagine a parental figure who would harm their child for something as simple as their sexual orientation until you've witnessed it with your own eyes. It drags you into the harsh reality that people are willing to attack you because of who you loved.

So, instead of some pointless reply, you hug him. He shakes like a leaf as you hold him in your arms, and you hold him all the more tighter. It's not fair. It's not fair that Cronus is hated just for being himself. It's not fair that his father is _allowed_ to treat his own flesh and blood like this. And it's not fair that Cronus Ampora, one of the most wonderful people you've ever met, has to live with the knowledge that his father might never accept him. When people tell you 'life isn't fair' as if that's supposed to make you suck it up, that's a load of bullshit. Knowing that you're destined to struggle doesn't help a damn thing. And, as you state at the bloodied face of your lover, you are angry _for_ him. You're so fucking angry that life isn't just unfair, it's taxing and depressing and horrible—and there isn't a thing that you can do to console him.

"Cro! Wait!" Eridan calls as he bounds down the front steps, standing beside you to catch a glimpse of Cronus's face.  He grimaces as he looks from Cronus, then back to you.

"We need to go." He states, motioning for you to follow him to his car. "I've seen some pretty bad breaks, an' this is definitely hospital worthy."

Pulling Cronus with you, you load him into the back of Eridan's car, taking the front seat so you can navigate him to the nearest medical center. As you pull out of the driveway, you swear that you catch a glimpse of movement—a thin curtain moving from the window. But, maybe you imagined it; Stress will do that.

...

The ride over is terrible, to say the least. Since it was a Saturday, the traffic was atrocious as you headed through the more populous area of town where the hospital is located. The ride was not made any better by the fact that both you and Eridan were basically flipping your shit about literally everything leading up to your current predicament.

When you finally usher Cronus into the pristine white waiting room, you nearly groan in irritation. It's not that there are many people, but the staff is missing entirely.

Eridan strides up to the front desk, grumbling about the lack of service.

"Where's the fuckin' bell? How do these fuckin ass lickin hags expect to help anybody if they don't even monitor the damn desk!" He growls, smacking his fist down on the counter as you help Cronus into one of the uncomfortable, cheap hospital seats.

"Are you feeling lightheaded?" You ask. There's really no way to look at him without feeling faint, yourself—and Eridan would definitely not appreciate having two fainting adults on his hands.

"No, just pissed." He answers curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I shouldn't have gone to see him, what the fuck was I thinking?" He groans in frustration, laying his head in his hands as well as he could while holding his shirt over his face to stop the bleeding. .

"You were thinking that you wanted your father's approval, and there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about." You console, rubbing his back soothingly. "He's the one at fault, here; not you."

A nurse rushes up to the two of you, Eridan not far behind with a surly look on his face.

She motions for Cronus and Eridan to follow her, but Cronus doesn't budge, looking at her questioningly.

"Only immediate family may come with you." She states, staring at you in the eyes.

"He's coming with me." Cronus says sternly, grasping your hand with his own bloodstained one (you feel like you're going to vomit, but you appreciate the gesture.)

"Cronus, it's fine; I can wait here."

"No. You're coming with me." Cronus commands, turning to face the nurse. "We go together, or we don't go at all."

The nurse sighs, looking over her shoulder before speaking in a hushed tone. "Nobody's around right now, so I suppose I can make an exception." She winks, leading the way out.

…

Even though you went through all that trouble to let you come, you ended up sitting on the hallway floor curled up in the fetal position while you tried not to have a panic attack, earning you some nervous, sympathetic, and confused glances from everyone who passed. Too much blood; you should have expected that.

"Hey uh—older Kar. Cro's all set; we can leave this sorry excuse for an establishment." Eridan says, laying his hand on your shoulder.

Cronus still looks pissed, but it's subdued; mostly, he just looks exhausted. He doesn't really speak the whole ride back home, and he doesn't say a word when you're back in the apartment. It's unnerving—hearing him so silent.

Instead of sleeping, he sits on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands and looking wearier than you've ever seen him. A pang of pity flashes through you, gripping your heart in all the wrong ways. Crawling up beside him, you hold him in your arms, pulling him sideways to rest his head on your shoulder while you rub his back.

Once more, you find yourself speechless: an uncommon occurrence for you. Finally, he gives in, letting himself cry against your shoulder. He's shaking again, and it physically pains you to see him so broken. You want to soothe him, but this is all you're capable of. This is all you can offer him. He understands that, but you both know that it will never be enough. Surprisingly, you don't need it to be. He doesn't need to be happy, tonight. He needs you here. He needs the raw sadness that will help him move on from tonight. He just needs to be okay.

"Will you sing to me?" He asks, his voice thin and weak, breaking as he attempted to form the words through his tears.

"Of course, love." You allow, laying a small kiss against his temple.

You sang to Karkat when you were children, but you're not very talented at all. Most of what you know is lullabies that your mother taught you, but he doesn't seem to mind anything. He lies next to you in bed, holding your hand while you whisper lullabies in his ear, even long after he's fallen asleep.

You hope he dreams of something sweet.

He deserves it. 


	10. Misconceptions and how we react accordingly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the worst chapter i've written so far. please read the notes at the bottom, it's actually kind of important this time.

This argument was not a new one. The differences between your and Cronus’s introverted and extroverted personalities became shockingly evident whenever the subject of weekend plans arose. Between his going out, and your insistence on remaining at home, the two of you barely had the chance to see one another on weekends. Parties, especially, became a big topic. Although you hated crowded places, you attended Cronus’s performances whenever you could do so; but, parties were different—you didn’t feel required to go to them, so you didn’t. Cronus was more than aware of that fact. That, however, did not deter him about pestering you to attend them with him.

"C'mon, Kan! It's Rufioh's birthday party—I'm practically required to go!" Cronus practically whined as he slammed his coffee mug down on the table, causing drops of it to spatter across the surface.

You nearly twitched in annoyance at his childish outburst, placing your own mug down as calmly as possible. "Well, I suppose you'll just have to go without me." You replied unyieldingly, crossing your arms over your chest in an expression of irritation at his persistence.

Cronus groans as he slams his head on the table dramatically. "You're killin' me, Kan. Can't you just come with me for _2_ hours?"

"Cronus. You know how I feel about parties." You sigh in exhaustion. "I don't want to have this argument _again._ ”

"Then let's not have it!” He interjects, staring you straight in the eyes. “Just try it this once! Can’t you do that much for me?” He pleads, fixing you with his classic ‘give me the thing’ gaze.

This is a terrible idea. Allowing him this much would not only be signing away your soul for 2 full hours of boredom and an inevitable headache, but it would open the floodgates of his expecting you to jump whenever he asks something of you. You’re not going to do it. He can’t make you do anything—

"...just this once." You concede, brushing a hand through his dark hair.

"Great! You won't regret this; I promise!" He grins, and it almost takes away from the knowledge that you've made a bad mistake.

Almost.

...

It's too loud. It's too dark. It smells too much like alcohol, and Cronus fucking abandoned you.

 _"Yeah, baby; I'll be back in a minute. Wait right here."_ Bullshit. You've been sitting here for at least 45 minutes with little to do but imagine a thousand different ways for you to kill yourself using only objects in this admittedly well-furnished room. It may have not been the most cheerful of activities, but it kept your mind occupied enough to begin to ignore the nearly deafening music blaring a mere 5 feet from your resting spot.

The crowd is roaring around you, basically ignoring you completely as they crash into you, or tumble onto the couch beside you in drunken exhaustion. The only ones who took pity in you enough to actually acknowledge your existence were Meenah, Aranea, and, —what's his name?—that guy Rufioh is dating, who, coincidentally, was _also_ deserted at this damn party.

You sigh in frustration, laying your head in your hands. This was a shitty idea. You _knew_ that this would be a shitty idea from the beginning, and yet you still went along with him, foolishly expecting him to actually _stay_ with you.

Slumping down in your seat, you allow yourself to slip into thought for a few more moments—hoping to fade into the background and forget that tonight ever even happened.

That is, until the you’re shocked awake by the sensation of frigid liquid running down your back, the sickening scent of alcohol overpowering your senses.

Remember how you thought things couldn't get any worse? Yeah, well, you were wrong.

"Shit. You okay, man?" Someone asks from behind you, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Other than the fact that I'm alone, uncomfortable, and covered I'm alcohol? Yes, then I suppose I might as well be singing with joy." You bite out bitterly, brushing his hand away.

"I'm really sorry. At least let me help you get cleaned up." He offers, setting his now empty cup on the table.

You eye him warily. Was there really a point in just sitting around and waiting for Cronus when he obviously would rather be with his friends? You deserved to be occupied, too; and Cronus probably wouldn’t miss you if you went off for a bit.

 "Well, I suppose it would better than just sitting around in sticky, soggy clothes." You sigh, allowing him to lead you through the crowds.

\---♒---

A cheer erupted through your small group as Rufioh downed his 5th shot of tequila.

"You gonna be okay, man? I know that you can't really handle the _tough_ shit." You snicker, earning a small punch on the arm from Rufioh.

"Says the guy who passed out on his boyfriend after a few beers and a couple of shots."

"Damn it, are we really bringing that up?" You groan, throwing your head back. "Whatever, if it weren't for my drunken rambling, then he might've never dated me in the first place."

Rufioh laughs a bit. "Yeah, after he and I had to drag you upstairs because you couldn't even stand up." He pauses, looking around. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Ah, he's around. Maybe it'll do him good to meet some new people." You say dismissively, taking a swig from your drink.

"Aha, yeah, same with Horuss." He checks over his shoulder before continuing, his voice lowering in volume. "Love the guy, but it's like he never leaves me alone, you dig?" He laughs uncomfortably.

"Sounds better than Damara, though." You shrug, barely suppressing a chuckle as he shudders.

Rufioh cringes, casting a sidelong glance at the girl in question as she makes herself comfortable on someone’s lap across the room. "Yeah...That shit was CRAZY."

"Yo. Cron-ass." Meenah smirks, pulling Aranea into her lap as the two take a seat at the table. "Heard the two of you are co-presidents of the buoy-frond abandoning club."

Ugh. You've known her for your _entire_ life, and she _still_ hasn't dropped the fucking fish puns.

"What are you even talkin' about; Kan is tough, he can take care of himself." You retort, desperately trying to fight off her obvious attempt at getting a rise out of you.

"Did you ask him to wait for you?" Aranea inquires, fixing you with an almost judgmental look. "Because he appears to have taken that to heart and waited for you in the EXACT same spot."

"I... _might_ have said somethin' like that." You admit, looking away from her disappointed gaze.

"And you thought he'd be cool when he knows maybe 4 other people here?" Meenah asks, suddenly serious. "The kid is wearing a fuckin' SWEATER at a RAGER, Cro."

You smack your hand to your forehead, groaning. "Oh shit, I hate it when you're right."

You push back your chair to stand, narrowly avoiding someone who quickly steps behind you.

"Rufioh, I've found you at last!" The person calls, throwing his arms around the other's shoulders.

"Hey, Horuss..." Rufioh smiles awkwardly. "You've met everyone, right?"

Horuss's smile remains disconcertingly wide as he looks over the three of you, making you recoil a bit.

"Ah, you are Cronus, correct?" He asks you. "I recently spoke with Kankri."

Well, at least someone was keeping him company—even if it was Rufioh's excessively happy boyfriend.

"Yeah? I was just about to go find him."

Horuss simply turns his head to the side in confusion, smile remaining plastered to his face.

"I was under the impression that you already went to see him? I admit that it was dark, but I could have sworn that I just saw him leaving the room with you."

What.

"...are you sure it was Kankri?" He wasn't one to go off with strangers. He was barely one to go off with people he _knew._

"Oh, yes! I am quite sure." He smiles, turning back to continue his conversation with Rufioh.

You're not jealous. Why should you be jealous? Just because Kankri was talking to someone new? Big deal. Kankri's clever; he knows what he’s doing. Because you didn't know who it was that Kankri was with? You don't know all of Rufioh's friends. Just because some weirdo was probably leading Kankri off to god knows _where_ to do god knows _what?_

...Okay, yeah. You were fucking nervous about that.

"Cro, calm your shit." Meenah warns. "You look like you're gonna flip. Don't obsess over the fact that he ain't with you."

"But what if—!"

"Cro." She glares. “ _No._ ”

You grumble a soft expletive at nothing in particular, crossing your arms over your chest as the two couples go back to talking to their own conversations. You know that Kankri would never even consider cheating on you, and he's definitely too smart to be lured into some weird trap, but that doesn't mean that someone couldn't attack or drug him or something.

"I’m gonna take a smoke." You mutter, despite the fact that everyone else is too preoccupied with their significant other to even listen to you and your neurotic bullshit.

Snaking your way through the crowds, you immediately go back to the area you and Kankri had initially been. Horuss had probably seen incorrectly through his weird aviation goggles; the room was dark, and it could have been anyone!

...yeah, no; he's gone.

In his place, a nearly unconscious blonde girl is laying sprawled across the couch, an empty beer bottle nearly slipping out of her grasp as it dangles precariously over the armrest.

You approach her cautiously, tapping her shoulder lightly in hopes of not startling her. "Hey, sorry to bother you; I was just wonderin' if you'd seen someone."

She laughs a bit, bright pink eyes locking onto your own as her rolls herself over to face you. “Is he the short one in the sweater?"

"Yeah, that's him." You smile. "Do you know where he is?"

"Beats the fuck outta me; he left with my friend Dirk 15 minutes ago." She shrugs nonchalantly, hooking her thumb towards the stairs. “If you see him, tell him I’ve been waiting forEVER.”

You barely allow her the time to finish before you’re bounding up the stairs, her words trailing off into nothing as you force our way through the group of people spattered across the steps in small groups.

15 minutes. That… _stranger_ has been alone with Kankri for _15._ Fucking. minutes. Out of anyone, you are more than aware of what could transpire in the course of 15 minutes. You know Kankri, and you know that he would never walk off with someone he doesn’t know. This guy has to be pulling something, and you don’t like it.

You’re throwing doors open left and right as you dash down the hallway. He’s probably okay—you know that. But you can’t seem to shake the initial discomfort of not knowing where he is or who he’s with. Maybe you’re overreacting, but it would be your fault if anything happened to him. _You_ were the one who dragged him here with you. _You_ were the one who left him alone here for some bullshit reason. And _you_ were going to be the one to make sure that he was safe.

Stopping abruptly, you hesitate for a moment outside of the door at the end of the hallway. It’s the last one; what do you do if he’s not even in there? For all you know, that girl downstairs could have been too drunk to even have a clue of what she was saying. There aren’t a lot of people on the second floor—someone would have seen him.

You’re raising your hand to knock when a voice catches your attention, making your heart nearly freeze in your chest, in contrast with your blood that is quickly coming to a boil.

“No! Don’t touch me!”

“Dude, it’s not going to work if you don’t take it off.”

“Haven’t you done enough?”

“No, just let me—“

You can barely contain your strength as you throw the door open, nearly crushing the person directly behind it. “Get your filthy hands off of him!” You roar, gripping the doorframe hard enough to hurt as you lean inside.

“Whoa—calm down!” The guy—Dirk, you assume—urges, dropping the side of Kankri’s sweater that he had been attempting to pull over his head.

“Cronus? What are you—!” Kankri gasps as you yank his arm and nearly throw him out of the bathroom.

“I’m fucking watching you.” You growl at Dirk as you continue pulling Kankri away, ignoring the brunette’s indignant demands that you release him and explain yourself.

You drag him out with you, not missing a beat as you text Rufioh a goodbye message and start up your motorcycle.

“He was just helping me clean my sweater, Cronus!” He shouts, attempting to pull his arm from your tight grasp. “He accidentally spilled his drink on me and he was just trying to help!”

“Accidentally, huh?” You scoff, glaring down at him. “That’s the oldest fucking trick in the book, Kan. They ‘ _accidentally_ ’ spill their drink on you so they can ‘help you clean up’, when they really just wanna get you undressed.”

“Cronus, you are being far too paranoid! He was honestly trying to assist me!”

“No, he wasn’t. Next time, just come to me.”

Kankri glowers at you, baring his teeth slightly. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t ditched me!” He cries, stomping his foot on the ground slightly in frustration. “You chose your friends over me, and _now_ you’re so eager to make sure I’m okay?!”

“You’re important to me! Can you blame me for being concerned?” You question, turning him to face you.

“Concerned?” He laughs incredulously. “Don’t you mean _controlling_ or, maybe, _jealous_?”

You slap your forehead in irritation, groaning loudly. “I _mean_ concerned! So I’m an idiot, what else is new? But I was seriously worried that you were going to get hurt!” You shout, taking a deep breath before you release his arm. “I’m not lying—you _know_ that you’re important to me. Maybe _he_ wasn’t trying to pull something, but that doesn’t mean other people won’t try to. You were right, you don’t belong at these things; I should have respected that. I’m sorry, baby.”

You run your hands through his hair, and his glare softens a bit. “…I accept your apology. I understand that you need time with your friends, but, next time, take me with you.” He smiles softly, slipping his hand into yours. “Can we just go, now? That was more excitement than is necessary for one night, and I am in dire need of a shower to remove this disgusting substance from my skin.” He grimaces, lightly smelling the collar of his sweater.

You chuckle softly, placing a kiss on his forehead as he takes his place on the back of the bike.  Tonight was definitely an overreaction on your part, but you have a feeling that overreactions are going to become a regular part of your life.

After all, you have someone worth protecting, now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. i'm going to try really hard to update on a regular basis, but there's a lot of shit going on.   
> i'm off of my medication and i fucking relapsed /again/. i don't really know what to do or how to be alive right now, and i'm going out of my mind with worry, because i think my mother is trying to kill herself (again).   
> i'm sorry. thanks for all of your support; hopefully i'll start being useful again.


	11. We're going to be okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School can be taxing. There is so much material that is required that students are often not actually //learning//, but moreso memorizing facts like machines. Sometimes, you just need to put necessities into perspective and heal yourself from the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is okay. I think things are getting better, so (hopefully) I will be able to return to some kind of a regular update schedule. Happy 4/13!!!

To this day, you aren’t entirely sure if dropping out of school was a mistake. But, at this moment, you feel fairly confident that it wasn’t.

No, at this moment, when your frantic-eyed sweetheart is surrounded by a fortress of text books and a stack of papers half a foot high, you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t survive in his situation. He’s been like this for the week, and it would be a lie to say that you weren’t concerned about him.

You’ve seen him eat twice in 5 days, and both times, you’re fairly certain that he got sick, afterwards. In other words, he’s surviving off of Advil and shitty coffee from his school’s cafeteria (something he hates with every fiber of his being). You pretend not to notice how he slips into bed at midnight, lays awake until 6, and then goes back to his work every single night. He’d never had healthy sleeping habits, but this was fucking ridiculous.

_“It’s only for one week, darling.”_ He repeated monotonously whenever he caught you staring, which was embarrassingly often. But, what else could you do? He was a fucking train wreck.

He looked like death. His already thin limbs had become even slimmer, the bags under his eyes darkened substantially, and his movements were lethargic at best. _“But I’m alright.”_ He told you. And you, being Cronus Ampora, believed him.

There was only one day left, right?

…

He was unnervingly silent when you brought him home, his head hanging heavily on your shoulder as you rode through the city—already coming alive with the promise of the coming summer. Rest would do him well. He just needed time to recover from the stress and his over-exertion.

You basically force-fed him ramen noodles as soon as you got him inside, threatening to call Porrim if he thought about refusing. Even with testing over, the actual process of waiting for his results still weighed him down with unnecessary anxiety—apparently, not only was his constant studying not enough, but now his self-doubt was going to run him into the dirt. And, even though you weren’t exactly the “nurturing” type, you couldn’t quell this worry over whether or not he was going to be okay.

After he finished his food, you sent him to bed so he could rest his mind for a little bit. He protested to your ‘blatant intrusion on his autonomy’, but begrudgingly conceded after you physically moved him into the bed, holding him in place with your arms as you reminded him over and over that it was done; there was nothing left for him to do but wait for the inevitably good results.

You held him in your arms all through the afternoon and into the evening, eventually falling into sleep as well.

…

Your dream cut short in a soft sort of haze as you reluctantly opened your eyes to the waking world. It was pitch black in your small room, and sign of the coming morning was still lost under a blanket of stars.

It wasn't often that you woke up for no apparent reason in the dead of the night, but it surely was not impossible. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing—something wrong; what that was, however, you could not decipher.

For a few moments, you stayed absolutely still, taking a mental inventory of reasons for your unusual restlessness. Yet, it wasn't until you stretched your tense joints, a hand unintentionally crossing the center of the bed towards your sleeping lover, that you realized what was wrong. As solid flesh collided with the empty air that _should_ have been occupied by aforementioned significant other, your body froze.

You jolted up in your bed, knocking the back of your head against the bed frame rather ungracefully as your eyes frantically searched the room. The bathroom door was open, the couch was unoccupied, and there was absolutely no figure curled beside you on the mattress.

_Oh no, not this shit again._ You thought to yourself as you made an unbalanced dash for the entry-way closet. To your relief, his shoes were still beside yours—his coat hanging up against your own. _So he couldn’t be that far._

Even so, your relief only lasted a single, transient moment before your thoughts caught up to you again. You'd fucking seen _1,000 Ways to Die_ , and you sure as fuck weren’t going to ever be okay again if Kankri had become one of those rare cases.

_Maybe he just went out to clear his head?_

… _without…shoes?_

_Maybe?_

You threw open the door to the balcony, the cool, late spring air chilling your skin. You hadn’t realized how heavily you had been breathing until your lungs were filled with the thick scent of the city—a cold shock to your very core. The streets were as empty as ever, and the sleep you had hoped to find tonight was lost in another wave of anxiety.

All ideas exhausted, you threw yourself down onto one of the frigid metal chairs, holding your head in your hands as you wracked your mind for ideas.

"Cronus?"

Curled up beside your feet beneath the table, Kankri was staring back up at you.

"Jesus, baby. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack." You breathed heavily, more out of relief than frustration.

He nodded noncommittally, turning his gaze back toward the empty street.

“So, is there any reason you’re out here instead of in bed at fuck o’clock in the morning?” You asked, running your hand through his thick hair.

He laughed softly at your terminology, leaning into your touch as his eyes slid closed again. “I just needed to think. Even though I know that everything is over, I can’t stop second-guessing answers and worrying about silly errors I may have made.”

“I’m sure you did okay.” You reassured him, cradling his face in his hand. “You’re probably one of, if not the smartest guy I’ve ever met—even without studying 24/7 for an entire week.”

He let out a soft sigh of frustration, brow knitting in thought. “Testing and exam results have little to no relevance to an individual’s intelligence. In fact, the majority of the actual testing process relies on a person’s ability to memorize and regurgitate mundane facts while under a tremendous amount of stress. It’s an asinine system in all respects, as it does not fit the learning styles of most students—but it is especially outrageous by the mere fact that these unfair systems have a huge impact on the grades and scores of each student.” He rambled, glaring at nothing as he ranted on. “I just wish that I did not care about these pointless things, Cronus. It’s exhausting.”

It hurt you to see him like this, so helplessly angry and nervous. His constant studying was only a momentary distraction from worrying about the tests that he had already completed, but now he had nothing to distract him from the relentless uneasiness. If he was going to get better, he needed to relax—one distraction to take away the ache of concern.

But, that would have to wait. He needed to rest, and you needed to plan.

…

Coercing him into bed was a challenge, but not nearly as hard as before. Only when you were positive that he was asleep did you remove yourself from the bed, carefully repositioning him so you could un-wrap your arms from around his body before crawling out from your small cocoon of blankets.

It wasn’t the plan itself that would be difficult, because you had done this exact same thing at least 4 times since your rebellious days of adolescence. It was the fact that you weren’t exactly a wealthy, angst-filled kid with a drivers’ permit and a ‘give a fuck’ maximum of exactly zero. No, you were an adult now, god damnit.  

…but, you did require the help of someone who was still an angry, wealthy teenager.

_“Ugh. What is it now, Cro?”_ Your brother asked in his usual irritated tone of voice.

“Hey, Eri! I was just wonderin’ if maybe you’d be willing to do a _small_ favor for your dearest older brother.” You crooned softly, stifling a laugh at his disgusted scoff.

_“Just tell me what the fuck you want before I come to my momentarily lapsin’ senses and hang up on you.”_

“I need you to get the keys to the beach house for me.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and you begin to wonder if he actually did make do on his threat.

“ _Are you insane? Like, **actually**_ _fuckin’ insane?”_ He growls on the other end, almost mirroring your father’s disappointedly exhausted voice. ” _For one thing, those keys are hidden god knows where. But, most importantly, he will kill you—but more importantly, **me** —if he even thinks that some shenanigans are takin’ place.”_

“So? We just gotta make sure he doesn’t find out.” You shrug. Although you might have gotten caught every single time you ran off there as a kid, there was little to no chance of that happening when you were sure that nobody would come looking for you. If you played your cards right, your dad would never suspect a thing. “The keys are in the wall safe in his office, which you probably already know the combo to. Just put another key in their place in case he needs to grab something outta there.”

Eridan sighs heavily, mumbling to himself for a moment. You do feel a bit guilty doing this to him—after all, if dad finds out, most of the blame is going to be on his head (you’re sure your dad has told him not to talk to you, anyways.) But you just need to get Kankri out of here, and away from all of this.

“Fine. I’ll drive them over in an hour or somethin’” He grumbles, hanging up before you can thank him.

You throw together 5 days’ worth of yours and Kankri’s clothes as you hurry around the apartment getting ready, being as careful as you possibly can to avoid waking Kankri up and accidentally spoiling your surprise. Miraculously, you manage to stuff the two medium suitcases into the saddlebags of your motorcycle with only basic amounts of swearing under your breath and getting dirty looks from the neighbors.

When you get back to the apartment, Kankri is already awake, sitting dazedly at the kitchen table with half a cup of coffee in his hand. He barely notices you as you walk in, in his zombie-like state, only giving you the faintest of nods as he goes back to staring at the wall.

Of course, you use this to your full advantage.

He barely has time to stutter out your name before you’ve picked him up and ushered him outside, grabbing the keys Eridan left in your mailbox as you basically drag Kankri to your motorcycle. You put him on the back, shoving a helmet over his perpetually unruly hair as you hop on, yourself. He barely has enough time to thread his arms around your waist before you’re off, flying through the early-morning traffic to the house of your childhood.

…

Original confusion notwithstanding, Kankri took the unexpected hour and a half journey like a champ. (You chose to believe that this was due to your infallible trust in one another, and not the fact that he was still trying to determine whether or not he had dreamt the whole thing). But, when you finally arrived and were enveloped by the crisp ocean air, you felt that everything was going to be alright.

“Cronus, I am going to excuse your earlier abduction of me, but only in favor of asking you where it is that you have taken us…” He asked, his beautiful, russet eyes a startling contrast as they locked onto the expanse of achingly blue waves before the two of you.

“Just a little well-deserved getaway, babe. Welcome to what is absolutely the _better_ Ampora household—completely free of bigots, and school exams.” You smiled, resting your hand on his waist as he scanned the area. The beach here was usually deserted, as the boardwalk was about 6 or 7 miles up-shore, leaving you the run of the place for your stay here.

He stared at you for a moment, shocked, before quickly pulling you into an embrace, his face smooshed against your chest in the most uncomfortably wonderful way.

“Oh my god; I cannot even believe you, you perfect, beautiful _idiot._ ” He laughed, his voice somewhat muffled from the fabric of your shirt. “ _Thank_ you.”

“Hey, none of that ‘thank you’ stuff. I would do anything for you, baby.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his messy auburn hair as you placed a soft kiss on the crown of his head. “Love you, Kan.”

“I love you, too, Cronus.”

…

The majority of the day was spent leading Kankri around to your favorite haunts as a teenager. You had always loved this area better than your hometown, and frequently spent your time here after getting your drivers’ license. There wasn’t a lot to do, but he didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.

When the day finally began coming to a close, you brought him out to a place that was probably your absolute favorite growing up. Your area of the beach, being so far from the blaring lights of the city, left you with the best places to get swept away into; caught in the tide cacophony of the crashing tides, or lost in the vastness of stars that looked like they had been sewn there just for you to marvel over.

On the hill over the sea, you held Kankri in your arms as you lay in the grass. From up there, nothing seemed to matter as much as you thought it did. The lights of the city were just stardust, caught in limbo and stuck in the tepid air of one summer night in a set of thousands. Even without confirming it, he understood that, too.

Things were going to be fine.


	12. "Rationality"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re rational, a natural skeptic with your cold, calculating eyes. You always have been. Instinct had always seemed frivolous to you. Cogent decisions required calm, sensible thoughts, not fleeting chemical reactions in our minds. 
> 
> Not until now, anyway, in fact, even when faced with one of the largest decisions of your life, it’s easier than you thought it might be. Then again, maybe that’s just because it’s him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //remember that one time i said i was never going to finish this? Okay, well, there’s been a change in plans. This will be the second to last chapter (the last one is already in motion, so don’t worry too much about a wait!) anyways, there is a fairly large time jump between this chapter and 11, and an unbelievable one between this one and the next, so bear with me. I’m finishing this up abruptly before I lose all interest, so, sorry if it is obvious that my work has been declining in quality//

The thick veil of the overbearing scent of cheap laundry detergent stuck heavily inside of your lungs, head hazy with the sickly sweet redolence. Out of all household chores, laundry was the most tedious; the chore was made all the more irritating after nearly a year living with Cronus "all of my wardrobe decisions are determined by what smells the _least_ appalling" Ampora.

Slinging the bag of clothing over your shoulder with a soft grunt, you attempted to (single handedly) send Cronus a text to come and pick you up. However, after several miserable failures and about 5 seconds of infuriated groaning, you decided that, fuck it, you’re walking.

The September humidity hung heavily in the city, an intangible miasma reminiscent of the evanescent summer days that would soon vanish, brushed away like the dying leaves with the crisp winds. Labor Day had come and gone, yet the persistent clinginess of the heat seemed to creep around corners and down the sidewalks, ghosts of a dying season sleeping in the dark clouds threatening to overflow over your head as you bustled across the roads back home.

Despite your worries of annoying the neighbors, you kicked your toes against the apartment door, hoping that Cronus would at _least_ be able to let you in before the laundry absolutely crushed you. But, of course, no one answered. You were seriously mourning the fact that the laundry mat closest to your building had closed down, forcing you to travel 2 miles further than usual, you had never noticed how heavy it actually was until you had to walk 7 miles total with it on your back. Mumbling under your breath in annoyance, you slung the bag off of your shoulder, fishing in your pockets for the key. In the end, you just dragged the bag in behind you, unwilling to go to the trouble of carrying the extra weight for a moment longer.

“Cronus? Are you home?” You called, although you knew it probably wasn’t necessary. The apartment was small enough that you could practically hear someone breathing from the next room over. You huffed, dragging the bag into their bedroom to sort out the clothes into yours and Cronus’s drawers.

..

After folding and separating their clothes into separate piles, you went to put Cronus’s socks in their drawer, but found that there was a bit of resistance. The drawer wouldn't budge a single centimeter, the wooden casing creaking in protest as you attempted to shake it loose. The area the drawer had been opened to was small, but it was just barely large enough for you to slip your hand into, feeling around for whatever could have gotten stuck. 

Something velvety brushed the tips of your fingers, and you recoiled in surprise. Tentatively, you reached back in, this time dislodging the small object into your hand, pulling it free to get a better look at what it was.

You immediately dropped it, mouth agape as you stumbled backwards and onto the floor. There was a hammering of your accelerated heartbeat resounding in your ears, the blood rushing out of your face as you stared at the palm-sized box in horror. That couldn’t… that couldn’t actually be what you thought it was, could it? There was no way that could be the box to an engagement ring. Absolutely not! There was _no way_ that your significant other of only 10 months would have purchased something so final without discussing it, or at least giving any hint at all that he had done so!

Yet, even as you attempted to remind yourself of these things, you could feel your hands quaking as you picked up the box again. With a hesitant, unsure flick of your thumb, you opened the box, all of your fears confirmed by what was inside.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!”

Fumbling with the box, you jumped to your feet, shutting it back in the drawer as quickly as possible. “I-I’m in the bedroom, Cronus!” You replied, attempting to keep your voice steady enough to be convincing but failing miserably, already feeling your face suffuse with the burning red of your embarrassment.

“You did the laundry? Awesome! I was startin’ to get a little bit worried.” Cronus chuckled, popping his head into the room.  “Hey, you okay? You’re lookin’ a little sick.”

“I’m fine!” You shouted, far more enthusiastically than intended, your face becoming impossibly redder with the additional discomfiture.

“Uh, okay then?” Cronus laughed, ruffling your unmanageable hair affectionately. “Here, lemme put my own shit away; you do enough for me as is.” He smiled, grabbing the pile of clothes that belonged to him, completely unaware of the internal panic attack you were feeling.

…

Days passed after the incident, and you were having an embarrassingly difficult time pretending that everything was normal. Throughout your life, you’d never really considered marriage a viable option. Even after realizing your sexuality sometime around junior year of high school, you had entertained fleeting thoughts of beautiful women with whom you might like to marry someday, but never this. This was too fast, right? You love Cronus, of _course_ you do. But were you both ready? Could your relationship really last the strain of a lifetime? It was too precocious—these things that had once seemed so impossibly far away. The elephant in the room that was obvious to no one but you.  

And even though you knew you would have to come to terms with the situation, you didn’t expect it would be so fast.

A week passed, and the two of you were sitting cuddled up on the couch together watching a movie, as was usual for Sunday evenings. Legs tangled together with yours, Cronus was pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, apparently already having lost interest in the film. You sighed. At this rate, you couldn’t even waste an hour without worrying about the _thing_. All you wanted was for things to go back to normal; maybe then you wouldn’t have to spend every second worrying over the details. Rushing into marriage was an idiotic thing to do. But, the thing was: even if Cronus got down on one knee and proposed to right that very second, you were certain that you would accept. You could never say no, you just couldn’t; because somewhere, deep down, that was the kind of security you craved. It was stupid and foolish but what else could you do?

“Kankri? You okay?” Cronus’s voice shocked you from your daydreaming, his cold hand turning you to face him, his concerned expression pulling you back into reality.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You lied, feigning interest in the film so he couldn’t see your nervous twitch; the downward tilt of your mouth, the way your dull teeth caught on your tongue when you were anxious.

Cronus sighed, pulling you against his chest. “Kan. We’ve been livin’ together for almost a goddamn _year_. I know when you’re lying to me and, honestly, it’s gettin’ kind of annoying. Are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you?”

“No.” You stated resolutely, burying your face into his neck to spare yourself from his disappointed expression.  

“Fine,” Cronus sighed, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re givin’ me no choice, babe.” He smirked, and you felt your stomach drop, immediately aware of what he was planning.

“Cronus, don’t you _dare_ —!” You started, but it was too late.  Cronus flipped you over onto your back shoving your sweater up until it bunched around your armpits as he pressed his lips to the softness of your stomach. “DO _N’T_!!” You squealed, dissolving into a fit of giggles as the other began blowing raspberries against skin.  

“CRONUS A-AMPORAAA!” You screeched, kicking your legs in a futile attempt to throw him off. “I DEMAND THAT YOU R-RELEASE ME!”

Cronus ceased for a moment, almost long enough for you to sate the unnatural laughter-induced burning in your lungs and calm your still trembling limbs. Then, just as suddenly;

“Hmm…nah.” He cackled, immediately starting again, despite your whine of protest.

“OKAY, OKAAAYY!! I’LL TELL YOU, JU-JUST STOP!” You conceded, your voice cracking from the struggle to continue breathing past his unyielding actions.

Cronus smiled against your stomach, pulling his face away and looking at your undoubtedly flushed, exasperated face expectantly as you wiped at the starry tears in your eyes as you attempted to catch your breath.

“I may have stumbled upon the ring in your top drawer…” You paused, gauging the other’s response. Cronus had almost immediately gone pallid, all trace of his previous shit-eating grin wiped from his face.  

“…Oh.” Was all he said, sighing deeply. “See, I was gonna tell you, _ask_ you, I mean.” He corrected, scrabbling for words. “It was just, the time wasn’t right, and I didn’t know what you’d say, and I just— _ugh_ , I ain’t good at this shit.” Cronus groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Neither am I.” You laughed miserably. “I really am sorry for ignoring you. I was just so surprised and I had no idea how to react.”

“That’s understandable. I would be speechless if an absolute _stud_ like me proposed, too.” He smiled, elbowing you in the side lightly.

“God, you’re a huge dork.” You snort, pushing your face against Cronus’s chest. “I love you so much.”

“Yeah, I love you, too.” He smiled, nuzzling your hair gently. “So, uh…is that a no, or? Cause I kinda already bought the ring and all that.”

You paused for a moment, considering. “It’s a yes.” You replied, kissing the other’s cheek. “But much later; and I just hope you did not buy the ring from one of those tremendously gaudy shops, I would feel horrible if the symbol of our love was an exorbitantly priced _conflict_ diamond.”

Cronus stiffened for a moment, as if in realization.

"...Cronus fucking Ampora, tell me you did not, in fact, expend several THOUSAND dollars to purchase me a wedding ring."

"Not too much, just, like, $6,000—“

" _$6,000 actual American dollars_ ," You interrupt, deadpanning. "Where on _EARTH_ did you get that much?!"

"Well, I bought it back when I had a lot ‘a cash in a savings account from my dad, so it didn’t set me back too much.” He explained, squeezing your hand lovingly, only to raise a brow when he noticed the confusion in your face.   

"...Cronus. When did you purchase this ring." You asked cautiously, not actually sure if you wanted to know the answer to your inquiry after all.

Cronus stuttered, visibly embarrassed. "Uh...well. Details, see, they ain't important, babe! Point is, it's here now, so—“

“ _When_ , Cronus?" You demanded, staring straight into the other’s eyes.

"About, uh,” He averted his gaze from your calculating one, fidgeting with the box before continuing in an almost whisper “3 days after we had sex the first time?”

“Cronus!”

“But let me explain!” He shouted, attempting to calm you down. “I didn’t buy it because we fucked, or nothin’. I just woke up in bed one morning and saw you there in my arms and it was like… I had an epiphany. I just realized that I had found what I was lookin’ for through you and through loving _you_ , and I wanted to hold on to that feeling forever.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes searching his for something, anything that could betray the verisimilitude his voice was conveying. Anything to make your heart stop racing in your chest.

“That’s…That might actually be the most cliché thing I have ever heard.” You laugh incredulously, giving his hand a rough squeeze. “It’s perfect, I couldn’t have asked for anything more.” You whisper after a moment, leaning up and pressing your lips to his.

“Cronus Ampora, it would be an honor to be your fiancé. I accept.”  And you’re sure about that, but a new, different kind of certainty. For once in your life, your answer doesn’t feel predetermined or like something that you spent ages considering, calculating. It’s more real than that, like all of those love songs about getting swept up in the moment that you always found so laughable. Like the manuscripts you had scoffed at, scribbling “D9esn’t s9und very realistic” in the margins every time you had shrugged off that overused trope of ‘loving someone so much that you lost all control’. Like the Hollywood concept of “soul mates” they used as a marketing ploy to sell more incredibly vapid love films.

You’re a fucking hypocrite, but it doesn’t actually feel like you can care about that. Not with his hands on your back, cradling you. Not with his lips melding against yours. Not with the solid, tangible weight of his body against yours, nor the give of his muscles under his clothes as you move your hands up his arms. Not here. Not now.

And never with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi; prepare yourselves for the next chapter. it's going to be so sweet that its disgusting.


	13. Things gained.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "5 years." You thought to yourself, straightening your tie in the bathroom mirror, the bitter taste of aspirin on your tongue.  
> 5 years, all leading up to this day. All leading up to the two of you, here, in the church you practically grew up in.  
> Although it wasn't much, you had a feeling you could do it.  
> That you could stay in love.  
> And that was enough. 
> 
> A knock at the door; an irritated warning.  
> And the hollow, metallic cacophony of bells from the apex of the building, shaking the aged walls slightly.  
> "I'm coming, Karkat!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, finally! The last chapter of Falling in Love with Your Unlikely Saviour. It took me days to finally be satisfied with, and I hope it's an okay ending for everyone. Writing this story has been one of the best experiences of my life, and I believe that it has truly allowed me to improve as a writer. Thank you all so much!
> 
> I made an 8Tracks Playlist for the songs that I believe would have been used at the ceremony, reception, and then a few to keep up the atmosphere of the story. The link is below, followed by the track list. 
> 
> http://8tracks.com/solivagantsleepyhead/falling-in-love-with-your-unlikely-saviour-chapter-13
> 
> Songs in Order: Intermission (Coeur De Pirate) -- Claire De Lune (Claude Debussy) -- A Whiter Shade of Pale (Procol Harum) -- Flume (Coeur de Pirate) -- Sea of Love (Cat Power) -- For Emma (Bon Iver)-- I love you-- love (John Lennon)-- All the Young Dudes (Mott the Hoople)-- Come on Eileen (Dexy's Midnight Runners) -- Falling Slowly (Reprise)

_Years in the future; ~~but not many~~ …_

Cronus wiped his sweaty hands on the inside of his pockets, the corners of the worn, folded piece of paper pressed in his palm causing indents to form in his skin.

"Cro, calm the fuck down, you're getting married, not disassembling a fuckin’ bomb." Eridan grumbled, watching as Cronus mumbled to himself, pacing back and forth across the room restlessly.

"That's easy for you to say! I've been thinkin' about this day for 5 fuckin' years!" Cronus shouted, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "If I fuck this up, I will never forgive myself."

“Then don’t fuck it up.” Eridan frowned, glaring at his brother. “You’re really startin’ to annoy me with all ‘a your self-deprecatory bullshit.” He scoffed, pulling absently at a loose thread on his cuff.

“Oh, well sorry to annoy you at my own fuckin’ wedding; how _inconsiderate_ of me!” Cronus shouted, returning Eridan’s glower. “Ain’t you supposed to be my Best Man? ‘Cause you’re actin’ like a prick. You’re officially demoted to _Worst_ Man. Exchange your boutonniere for something more fittin’ to your new position, like the throw-away end piece of a loaf of bread.”

Eridan let out a snort of laughter, his gaze softening a degree. “Shut the fuck up. It’ll be fine, you outrageous tool. Plus, judging by all ‘a the other shit Kan has put up with over the years, I bet you could walk out there in just your underwear and fuckin’ tie and he’d be all ‘Yeah. That’s the dude I let fuck me. This is it; this is the life I chose for myself.’”

Cronus finally cracked up at that, shoulders slumping as he allowed himself to laugh, his previous tension dissipating. “You’re right, he’s pretty cool like that, ain’t he?” He mused, a smile gracing his face. “I just. It’s hard. I want him to be happy, y’know?”

“I know. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” Eridan reassured quietly, awkwardly patting Cronus on the back—unused to consoling others.

Outside the chapel, Kankri, was faring no better in terms of panic. He had been rambling on under his breath for a number of minutes, resorting back to the comfort of his old habits to cope with his nervousness.

"Jesus fuck, Kankri!" Karkat finally interrupted, stomping his foot. "It's going to be fine, okay?"

"Karkat, this isn't merely about—"

“NO! Shut up for 5 goddamn seconds, okay?” Karkat interjected, clamping his hand over Kankri’s mouth. “You’re only succeeding in freaking yourself the fuck out with your unattainable expectations, and there’s a better chance of you fucking something up if you’re overthinking it.” He scolded, staring the other down. “Listen. That idiot in there is absolutely, stomach-churning-ly, _revoltingly_ in love with you. Even if you do make a mistake, he’s not going to notice past his constant obsessing over you every goddamn second. Calm. _Down_.”

All that Kankri could do was nod dumbly, staring at his younger brother with wide eyes.

"And now, all arise for the groom."

“You can do this.” Karkat promised him, straightening out his tie as he hooked their arms together.

Kankri closed his eyes, squeezed his brother's arm, and breathed in.

…

"…All arise for the groom." Reverend Vantas smiled, the two acolytes minding the doors creaking the ancient entrance open in response to their cue.

You told the reverend Vantas about your relationship around a month and a half after the initial engagement, and exactly 1 year and 3 days after your first meeting. As expected, he was shocked, but he assured you that he trusted Kankri’s judgment, wanted him to be happy, and wished the both of you the best. He promised time and time again that he didn’t—he could _never—_ love his own flesh and blood any less because of who he fell in love with, and, in the end, he eagerly volunteered to wed the two of you, despite certain protests from a number of the parishioners.

Even though you felt safe with Kankri’s father doing the ceremony, your head was still swimming in a rush of over-stimulation. You could hardly even hear the opening prayer over the pounding in your ears. It was so much to handle.

The wedding itself was small—Kankri had only invited his family, the Maryams, and their respective partners, of course. However, because of the circumstances, the only actual family member you had in attendance was Eridan. Even so, you’d not been in short supply of people to invite, either. Your closest friends were all there (many of them making inappropriate hand gestures at you, which you tried your best to ignore).  

Yet, when you heard the doors creaking open, the haze immediately seemed to clear from your mind, your gaze snapping over to the two figures bathed in the Technicolor light from stained glass windows above their heads.

He was…

He was intoxicating. His auburn hair became a radiant crimson halo in the soft colored sunlight, his tanned skin glowing golden. Despite the nervous furrow in his brow, he was absolutely stunning, and you found yourself completely without breath as he and his brother drew nearer and nearer to the front of the chapel.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

The song he had chosen for his processional faded out quietly as he took his place before you. His gaze softening around the edges as you locked eyes.

The whole situation was numbly surreal, like a fever dream that you just couldn’t seem to wake up from. His father’s voice seemed miles away, droning on and on about Ephesians and the Bible but you couldn’t find the motivation to focus. Kankri seemed to be the same, his pupils flitting about anxiously as he tried in vain to distract himself from those watching in the pews. He looked drained.

“And now, it is time for the recitation of vows—both of which were written by the betrothed.” Reverend Vantas smiled at the two of you, signaling Kankri to begin.

Kankri swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath as he met your eyes once more, as if to communicate that this was for you; not them.

His words were the superposition for you and only you.

"When I met Cronus Ampora, I was, in the lightest terms possible, in hysterics. I was wounded, disoriented, and crying,” He smiled bitterly, taking your sweating palms into his trembling ones. “He saved me then, and he has continued to help me for 5 of the most magnificent years of my life. Until I knew him, I had only been vaguely aware of the cracks in my existence. I had grown content in my secluded corner of the universe, but I hadn't noticed just how fragile my single fixed point in space was. Cronus single-handedly destroyed all of what I once thought was a complete and satisfactory life. He taught me that independence doesn’t have to mean _loneliness_. Without even realizing, I was drawn into his gravity, and my stagnant existence was forced into beautiful oscillation.  He gave me _hope,_ a virtue I didn't even know that I was lacking until he filled the spaces of my being with himself. I loathe the term “soul mate” and I cannot believe in fate, but I am eternally grateful that I live in this one universe out of _infinite_ others, because, here, I have the privilege of waking up in Cronus's arms.” He simpered, his eyes shining in that wonderful way that makes your stomach flip. “There isn’t anything in any other universe that I want more than that."

He smiled weakly up at you, his cheeks glowing faintly carmine. All you could do was run your fingers against his reassuringly, clearing your throat as you summoned the courage to respond to him.

"I know that love at first sight is something made up in fairy tales, a term that's only meant to take the place of 'infatuation', but meeting Kankri, for that one moment, it was like I knew that things couldn't go back to how they were. He haunted me even in my dreams.  I didn't even realize how lonely I was 'till I had him, like, _god_ , he would leave for one night and I’d have no idea what to do to with myself.” You chuckled softly, glancing down at him. “He gave me the one thing I had never actually had: a _home_. A place where I could be who I was and feel accepted, no matter what I did. I can't live without him; I would follow him to the end of the earth, even if it meant I could only spend 5 more seconds by his side. I love him more than I ever thought it would be possible. I love him so much that even before we were dating, I would tell people that we were, because I knew that he was the guy I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. Every day I remember how lucky I am that he chose me, because lord knows I wouldn’t have.” 

“Now, Cronus, repeat after me,” Reverend Vantas begins, taking the ring from the alter. “‘In the name of God, I, Cronus Ampora, take you, Kankri Vantas, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death -- this is my solemn vow.’” He recited, as he had done so countless times over the years.

“In the name of God, I, Cronus Ampora, take you, Kankri Vantas, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death –this my solemn vow.” You repeated, slipping the ring into Kankri’s slender finger. In the end, he had forced you to return the original engagement ring in favor of something a little more practical. You eventually decided on ordering them online, as Kankri didn’t want to contribute to the inhumane and monopolistic diamond industry. The two of you settled on decently prices rings with stones corresponding to your birth months—his, an antique ring with a ruby stone, and yours a more modern, amethyst ring. And, though you didn’t care to admit it, it was probably best that way.

Kankri recited his half of the vows as well, his hands still quaking as he slid the ring onto your finger.

“You may now kiss.” Reverend Vantas smiled, closing the Bible he had been reading from and placing it onto the alter. Finally, you slid your hands out of Kankri’s, instead using them to cradle his face as you tentatively pressed your impossibly dry lips to his. It was rigid and awkward; your noses bumped together from the awkward position and from your nervousness, but you still wouldn’t have traded that terrible kiss for anything.

…

The reception was very quiet. You forced Kankri to dance to a thousand of your favorite songs, holding him as close to you as physically possible as you slowly rocked him back and forth—just as you had been doing barefoot in your living room for so many years. After a while, he finally (albeit reluctantly) pulled himself out of your grasp, reminding you that you still had to cut the cake and at _least_ talk to your brother, as did he.

The thing he didn’t realize, though, was that Eridan was already distracted with his dumb boyfriend. So, instead, you just kind of slapped Rufioh a high-five, laughed at Meenah’s jokes about how she thought you would never get married because, honestly, you didn’t either, and went to the corner of the Maryams’ garden so you could smoke in general privacy. Fuck, you were exhausted. You’d think that standing around on an alter for less than an hour wouldn’t take as much out of you as it does. With the previous nervousness draining from your body, you were just left with fatigue.

“Cronus, could I have a word?”

You dropped your cigarette in surprise, turning around to face Mr. Vantas—the last person you had expected to want to talk to you. “Yeah, of course— _sir_.”

He let out at a chuckle at your formality, laying a thick hand on your shoulder. “Now, now—none of that around here; you’re part of this family now, Cronus. No need to be so strict with the titles.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a perfect mirror of Kankri’s. “Just call me Silas.”

“Okay, Silas,” you repeated, smiling back unsurely. “Did you want to talk to me about somethin’?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that your father isn’t here.” He started, looking at you sympathetically. “I asked Kankri about it and he explained the circumstances, and I just wanted—well, _needed_ , you to know that you’re always going to be welcome in our family, okay? It’s awful what he did to you, and you should know that we’ll love you. Like I said before, you’re _family_ , Cronus; don’t forget that.”

And, with one last reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, he left you alone again. Through your stinging eyes, you think you saw Kankri smiling at you from over his father’s shoulder, but you quickly turned around before anyone could see the aching on your face.

You never thought you could be this happy.

…

At the end of the day, the two of you returned home drained from all the excitement. Like many days, you cursed the lack of elevator and your high level apartment, but all of your griping and grumbling lacked conviction when you’re still smiling over the fact that you’re holding hands with the person you promised to spend the rest of your life with.

 Like the cliché motherfucker you are (and because he will be angry enough to _want_ to lecture you, but too tired to do so) you sweep Kankri into your arms as you kick open the apartment door, kissing his forehead and laughing to yourself as he squeaks in surprise. Without the strength to make it any farther, you allow yourself to collapse backwards onto the couch, Kankri falling across your chest as you chuckle against his unruly hair.

“I’m too tired to move ever again, babe; looks like you and I are sleepin’ here tonight.” You joke, tightening your grip on him when he attempts to roll off of you.

“Cronus, no, we have to finish packing for the trip tomorrow.” He scolds you, still struggling uselessly against your arms.

“But _Kan_ , we’ve been busy all day. Would it really be that terrible if we had a little time of our own?” You whine, loosening your tie and throwing it over the armrest carelessly. “’Sides, if we go to bed now, then we can wake up earlier and be more awake when we put our shit together.”

He pauses for a moment, considering your offer before groaning, resigned. “Fine, I suppose you do have a point. I cannot say that I really want to move much at the moment, either.”

“Good.” You smile, drawing him closer against you as you pull the blanket from the top of the couch over both of your bodies. His eyes are drooping in exhaustion, nearly closing as he’s drawn into the familiar in-between of consciousness. He’s nearly limp in your arms, his breath evening out as you run your hands down his back.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.” You whisper to yourself, watching the boy you love more than anything else as sleep overtakes him.

Until a few years ago, you’d never even thought about wanting a life like this. Years ago, you’d have laughed at even the notion that the boy you met in the alley that cold autumn night would eventually become your world.

But, in the end, falling in love with him was so easy, because somewhere along the lines, you, the _accidental_ savior, became the intentionally, magnificently saved.

_The End._


End file.
